


Absent

by Scooter_The_Noodle



Series: The Absent Series [1]
Category: Pentatonix
Genre: Death, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Graphic Violence, M/M, Multi, Neglect, Physical Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, Smut/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-27 19:14:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 31
Words: 40,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10040819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scooter_The_Noodle/pseuds/Scooter_The_Noodle
Summary: Mitch has always been praised for him beauty, but now, that same feature has gotten him in trouble. He has always been independent, but will this same factor be his downfall when he needs to depend on someone for survival?Scott does what he can for money, barely scrapping by. When he is hired for a job that is less than moral, he begins to question of it is worth it. Especially after meeting a snarky dark haired boy.Book One in Absent Series~°~"Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder and you...you are beautiful."(Warning: Trigger Warning! Rape, Neglect, Abuse, Death. There is also strong language in here.)Completed. Now Editing





	1. One

"Please let me give you a ride! It's after dark. It's dangerous to go walking alone! Especially with how far away you live!" I looked over at the pleading Kirstie, her eyes wide, and shook my head.

"Nope. Sorry. I am walking and you can't stop me." I shrugged.

"Mitchell! What if you get kidnapped? Raped? Killed? Anything could happen!" She pressed, looking at her phone. It was almost midnight. She and I had been working on a project for our choir class tomorrow.

"I promise! Nothing will happen! I'm too fabulous to get hurt. I'll call you as soon as I get home." I hugged her and turned around, snatching up my bag by the door.

"Mitch! Hold up!" She called and I sighed, stopping all movement.

"Yes?" I tried to keep the exasperation out of my voice.

"Love you."

I laughed. "Love you too, Kirst."

I resumed heading to her door and waved to her mother before walking out. I couldn't help but chuckled as I thought of Kirstie.

I really should have accepted that ride! I groaned inwardly. I had been walking for what seemed like miles. Thankfully, I only had about fifteen to twenty minutes left.

As I walked, I saw a slouched figure against a wall, just out of the street light's halo.

"Hey! Are you okay?" I called as I approached. They looked up and I took a step back. They were a mess. Or should I say, _he_ was a mess.

The boy was about my age, maybe a year or two older, with pale eyes. I couldn't see his hair, the black hood up. Seeing him in his jacket made me shiver, regretting not grabbing my own. His left eye was black and swollen, his lip cut, with a small trickle of blood dropping from his nose. He has various other cuts and his face contorted with pain every time He moved, breathing included.

"Could you help me up? I think I screwed up my leg trying to not get my ass beat. I guess I failed." He gave a rusty laugh, lip curling in pain.

Against my better judgement, I reached my hand out, gripping his now stretched out arm, letting my school bag go. I instantly regretted helping him. Barely pulling on me at all, he stood, his broad frame towering over me. He pulled me close and wrapped arms right around me as I struggled against him, flipping me around so my back rested against his chest. Using only one arm, he held me, pulling out a phone and dialling a number with the other. Goddamn my small form! He seemed to have no problem holding me, even as I heard a scrapping sound. He just kicked my Bag out of the way! That was an expensive fucking bag. He owned me big time.

"Got him, Bram." He growled.

"Yeah. I know. I'll bring him. In one piece. I have done this countless times before. Jesus. You would think I was a Rookie at this." He said, his tone exasperated.

"See you soon." He hung up and shoved the device back into his pocket. Clamping a hand on my mouth, the stranger picked me up and carried me with ease to a dark car park down the road. Just before we reached the car door, he looked down at me, his light eyes holding an emotion I couldn't name. He stopped and set me down, trapping me with his body against the car as he pulled out a cloth and pressed it to my mouth. I tried not to breath (I'd seen enough movies to know you don't breath in when a random cloth is put over your mouth and nose), but I couldn't hold it in any longer. One deep breath and I was dizzy. A few more and I was so out of it, I could no longer stay standing. I felt my body falling. Then...nothing.

I vaguely remember being held in the back seat of a car, my head resting on someone's lap. Every time I began to stir, become conscious, anything other than sleep, that same sickly sweet cloth laid against my face until I stilled.

"Get your fucking ass up!" A gruff voice growled as a icy cascade soaked my thin clothes. I jumped away, trying to move back. But I couldn't. Almost immediately after, there was a click followed by a searing light. I closed my eyes and looked away, trying to bring my hands up to shield my face. But I couldn't get them more than an inch from where they rested. I was chained to a chair, the metal cold against my skin. The light didn't help The pounding headache I was suffering from

"Who the fuck are you?" I growled to the figure. I couldn't make out features. Not with the light where it was.

A hand connected with my cheek. "Do not speak unless spoken too. I will be asking the questions." A voice followed.

"Like hell I will." I spat back. A hand wrapped around my neck, the pressure increasing.

"Are you pure?" My captor asked gruffly, hand still uncomfortably tight around my throat. "I sure do hope not. You are quite beautiful, more so than most we've dealt with. So young. Innocent almost. I cannot wait to destroy that hope in your brown eyes. And if you are not pure, then I can destroy that hope in way you can't even imagine." I refused to answer, mouth shut tight. I could feel him taking in every inch of me.

"Don't make me repeat my self. You will not like what follows. Now. Are. You. Pure?"

"What the f-" Another slap, harder than the last. "What is that supposed to mean?" I asked tightly.

"Are you still a virgin?"

I couldn't help but stare at the man incredulously. What does that have to do with anything? A slight blockage to my breathing elicited a response.

"Yes." I answered tightly, not liking the direction this was going.

Though I could make out no definite features, I could see that vile smile he had plastered between his cheeks, especially when he leaned into my face and laid a hand on the inner side of my thighs.

"Get your grimy hands off me. I am not some Fuck toy!" I kicked out against the restraints on my ankles.

"Oh, don't you ever learn? We will soon train that out of you. If my client wasn't insisting on a pure one, I would show you a good time." He pressed his lips against mine, biting my bottom lip.

"That's enough, Ben." A voice, calm, almost reassuring, called from the dark, the weak lightbulb doing little to illuminate the room. The man, Ben, stepped back and gave me a vicious smile. "Bye, Sweet Pea. We'll meet again." He laughed, walking away. Out of the room, by the sound of it.

"Who the hell are _you_?!" I growled. They never stopped, did they?

Unlike 'Ben', this guy actually answered. "Name's Alex." I tried to capture anything about him. But he was all shadows. A shadow man dressed in a very sharp suit. "You must be Mitchell." He walked closer, words thoughtful.

"How do you know my name?" I quipped. This question was, of course, ignored.

"You are definitely prettier in person. Pictures don't do you justice. But before we continue this conversation..." He reached into his breast pocket, inside of his jacket, and pulled out a rectangular device. A phone. And not just any phone!

"That's mine!" I cried out.

"Oh, I know. Now. Tell me the code." He shook it in his hand, the dull light flashing across the Rose Gold iPhone. His pleasant smile never slipped.

"Hell no. That's mine. Have you never heard the word 'Privacy'?" I replied. This caused Alex to sigh. He walked over to the table under the light and leaned his hip against it, hands clasped in front of him, finally giving me a good view of him. He was good looking, with short, spiked dirty blonde hair, sparkling eyes, and a lineless face. I had to admit, he was not at all bad looking.

 _Knock it off._ I scolded myself. _He kidnapped you and is not your friend. Stop admiring him!_

"Mitchell, you are not making this easy on yourself. My orders are to deliver you alive. They never gave a more detailed way they wanted your condition to be, other than alive and obedient. And, of course, a virgin. Which means punishments that you can't even imagine." There was this threat again. "Do not make me start that now. Now answer the _goddamned_ question." He seemed a little irritated with me by the end of his statement.

"Two nine seven four two." I recited through gritted teeth.

"Wonderful. Now to call that girl you always hang out with. Poor sap called you multiple times." He punched in the code and then pressed a few buttons. "Before I press call, here is a little warning. If you say anything about what happened to you, she will die. And _you will pull the trigger_. Am I understood?"

I nodded mutely. What else could I do? I wasn't about to be He smiled and pressed the call button. A loud ring split through the air. Not even two later I heard her voice.

" _Mitch?! Oh thank god, you are okay! In was beginning to get worried, especially after you didn't respond to me!_ "

He held the phone towards me. "Tell her you are fine. And remember just what is on the line." He whispered and I nodded.

" _Why the hell would you worry me like that!? I am going to kick your skinny white ass to the middle of next month!_ " Alex raised and eyebrow and chuckled like this was entertaining to him!

"I am fine, Princess. Got home safely. I guess I was just so tired I forgot and I couldn't hear when it went off. Sorry for worrying you." I said apologetically. I could hear her moving around in her room. I never called her princess unless I was in real trouble. Especially since it started as an actual sos signal when I had gone to a party and gotten way drunk and called her on accident.

Her response came soon after. " _It's almost time for the late bell to ring. I guess you aren't coming?_ " She asked. I guess she was confirming something because if I said no, she would know something was up. I never missed school. Especially when we had a project due.

"Nope. I'm too tired to even drag my sleepy ass out of bed." I responded, eyes flicking to Alex's face. He just nodded.

" _Okay._ " She paused. " _I'll talk to you later, love._ " She finished.

Before I could respond, Alex stole the phone back. "Mitch, sweety, who is on the phone? It is awfully early for someone to be calling you, precious." He asked, his voice tried and groany, just like he just woke up. Then he ended the call.

"Why the fuck did you add that?" I snarled. He walked over, leaving the phone on the table, and put his fingers on my jawline, holding it as I struggled to recoil. I didn't want him touching me. At all. But thankfully, he wasn't making advancements on me like that Ben dude had.

"I would hold your tongue, boy, of you ever want to survive this hell. Why don't we get you started on obedience training then? It will benefit both of us greatly if you are obedient. Especially with a beautiful face like yours. And such lovely dark hair. With you obedient to every whim, you will fetch quite the price. More probably than most."

He turned to walk to the door, but not before he slammed my phone off the table to the ground and stomped on it a few times. "That way, when they finally realize you are missing, they can't track you!" He closed in on the door and pulled it open, calling out for Ben and "Newbie" to come help him.

Almost instantly, the outline of two men appeared. Both bigger than me, though only the one was a giant compared to me. Ben wasn't that much taller than me, but the other, I could tell from here, towered over me.

They walked over and tied a piece of cloth around my eyes, darkening my vision.

Last thing I remember was a hand clapping over my mouth with a cloth, dizziness sweeping over me before my consciousness slipped.

~°~

**Hey! So, if you would like some back story to either of the boy's situations, please let me know and I will be happy to oblige. I just do not want to add it is no one is interested. Don't forget to vote of you like this story. Oh, and stay Sexy!**

**-Scomiche**


	2. Two

I nearly screamed is surprise as I sat in my room when my phone rang. I reached down and answered the call faster than anything I have ever done. I knew that ringtone anywhere.

"Mitch?! Oh thank god, you are okay! In was beginning to get worried, especially after you didn't respond to me!" I hugged my pillow close, worried out of my mind for him. Where was he? What was he doing?

There was a pause, with what sounded like whispering, but could have been him breathing for all I knew.

This ticked me off and I added to my earlier statement. "Why the hell would you worry me like that!? I am going to kick your skinny white ass to the middle of next month!"

I could here a chuckle, then he responded to me.

"I am fine, Princess. Got home safely. I guess I was just so tired I forgot and I couldn't hear when it went off. Sorry for worrying you." Princess. He said it. He said Princess. Oh no!

"It's almost time for the late bell to ring. I guess you aren't coming?" I lied. I still at home, dressed and ready for the day. We both still had about half an hour until the first bell.

"Nope. I'm too tired to even drag my sleepy ass out of my bed." I knew he was lying. I could hear it in the way his voice took a certain edge. And he would never miss school on a day with a project. What was wrong!?

Okay." I paused, snatching up a paper. "I'll talk to you later, love." I finished my thought, scribbling down notes about this.

There, there was a slight static, as though the phone were being moved and another voice, a male voice, spoke up tiredly. "Mitch, sweety, who is on the phone? It is awfully early for someone to be calling you, my precious." I didn't even have time to register what happened before the line went dead. With no goodbye. Strange. What irked me even more was that voice at the end. Had he not responded to me because he slept with someone?! I had to call his parents. They would help me with this.

I was tempted to call him back, but decided against it. Next time I saw him, there would be hell to pay.

I seethed to myself for a few minutes before I called up his mother.

"Hello?" The lady's sweet voice answered me.

"Hey Nel. It's Kirstie." I replied, smiling.

"Oh! Kirstie! How can I help you?" I loved Nel. She was always so supportive and helpful to both Mitch and I.

"Is Mitch there?" I asked, feeling my anger flare up again, his SOS plea forgotten.

"No. I thought he stayed the night at your house." Nel replied. I cursed.

"Damn it." I growled. Then stopped. "Has he contacted you as to his whereabouts?"

"Haven't heard from him since last night when he called to tell us he would be home late. Why? Is there something wrong?" Her voice was worried.

"He called me Princess." was all I had to say before I heard her gasp. She knew the code. She knew that he was not safe where ever he was when that was mentioned. "But the reason I called was because before he hung up, someone, a boy, no less, asked him who was calling him. And I began to think he got home and refused to call me because he slept with someone."

"That doesn't sound like him at all. Especially since he has never slept with anyone before. I'm really worried. He knows his father and I won't judge him, so I am sure that whatever happened to him, it is worthy of 'Princess'." Leave it to Nel to bring reason to the table. "Let's give him until the end of school to call before we go to the police. They might be able to track his phone and find out just where our Mitchie went."

"Okay. See you later, Nel. Bye." I waited for her reply before hanging up the phone.

"It'll be fine, deary. Don't worry. He is a strong boy." With that, the conversation ended.

I sighed and laid my head in my hands. I don't know what I was working my self up about. Honestly, though it pissed me off to no end, I hoped that he was as someone's house after having slept with them. That way, I could slap him, then go back to the way things were before. It is better than the alternative, that he wasn't safe, that Princess was because he was in real danger and not just because he needed to get away from his night buddy.

"KitKat! Ready to go?" My sister called up the stairs to my room.

"Yeah!" I called back and snatched up my school stuff. Oh, how I disliked the hell hole they called school, filled with people who thought that they were better because of money.

I opened the door and bolted down the stairs, determined to ignore that one little voice in my head that said he was in real trouble.

I hopped into my car and shut the door, motioning for my sister to hurry her ass up.

She laughed as she herself climbed in and I started the car.

"You ready to perform with Mitch?" She asked me.

"No. Mitch isn't coming to school today." I replied, trying not to let my anger and disappointment show.

"Oh. I hope the poor boy gets well soon. Maybe your teacher will let you do it next time." She said, smiling hopefully.

The rest of the ride was silent, with no response from me.

Once I arrived at school, I headed straight to my first class of the day, sixth Period. "Mr. Mendez?" I asked, knocking on the door of the Choir room as I leaned in. I could see him leaning over a stack of papers, scribbling furiously, his eyes drawn in confusion.

"Who? When? What did I miss? Did someone die?" He asked in a startled rush. I laughed.

"It's just me." I said as I entered, add in my name afterwards. "Kirstie."

"Oh, Miss Maldonado!" He greeted with a smile. Always formal before class. Kept him out of bad situations, he claimed. "What can I do ya' for?"

"Well, Mitch was not smart and walked home last night, and is quite sick. He can't make it today, and we were both wondering if you would allow us to do it next class, if Mitch was feeling well enough to come?" I hated lying, but I wasn't about to let my grade drop because of him.

"Yes. Yes, of course! I only do this because you two are always going the extra mile in this class. Thank you for letting me know before hand." He smiled and I nodded, supplying a 'Thank you' of my own.

I went to sit in my seat, pulling out my phone. Opening my texts, I sent a message to Mitch.

'Mitchell Cody Michael Grassi, I swear, if something is not seriously wrong, I will wring your skinny neck. I was able to postpone our project in Choir til next class. Btw, your mother is worried about you, as am I. Call and talk to her, if you won't talk to me.' It read. I clicked the send button and then looked up to see just who was here.

There was Willow, Tori, and Tori's adopted brother, Toddrick, who waved his dark hand at me as he followed the girls in. Toddy was one of the few richer kids I could stand. Both he and his sister was amazing singers, and both were really nice to everyone.

"Woohoo! Text message!" My phone anounced and I looked down to see if Mitch had replied. It not our conversation. And unknown number. But the message froze my blood. It listed Mitch's number followed by a simple message.

'This number is unavailable. Please check to see if the number you inputted is correct.'

"What the hell?" I muttered as a pair of arms wrapped around me. I jumped, then realized just who the arms belonged to.

"Morning, Avi." I smiled.

"Good morning, Kit." He replied, kissing my cheek.

I wriggled in his grip to give him a hug of my own.

The bell rang and Mr. Mendez clapped his hands, calling the class to an opening. Avi sat next to me and let me play with his hands as the groups went up and did their project. I mulled over the text I got from the company when I tried to get in contact with my best friend.

~°~

Yay! Double update! I would love to hear your thoughts on it so far.

I do not know how often I will be able to update, because I have a crazy life, so there is no real schedule. But I will try to update often. I will be happy to add a chapter about Scott's past, if y'all want me to post it. Vote? Oh, and stay Sexy!

-Scomiche 


	3. Three

Two days ago  
Scott's P.O.V  
I yawned, stretching out my spine. Opening my eyes, I looked at the dirty alley way I inhabited. It was shabby and dirty, but for now, it was the best I had. That is, until I got a new assignment from Alex.

I signed and sat up. It was early in the morning. I never managed to sleep in late. If I did, that could end badly. It is bad enough living on the streets, but when people know you worked for someone like the man I worked for, they don't let you off too easy if you are vulnerable.

I looked around for the small bag I kept with me. Finding it, I pulled one strap over my shoulder and got to my feet. I looked down at my ratty clothes and chuckled momentarily to myself. I was so dirty, I actually had a tan now. That was a first.

"Good morning." A voice said from behind me and I turned, rolling my eyes.

"Good morning my ass." I retorted, narrowing my eyes at the speaker.

"Well, I have news." He continued, simply chuckling at my reply. No good or bad was added and I didn't ask. It was never good, and it was never bad, entirely.

"Who is it now?" There was only one thing that Ben would be here for, especially with news. I was being recruited.

"A beautiful specimen. Name is Mitchell Coby Michael Grassi." He said and pulled up a picture of a lovely boy with a single dark eye visible behind the slim, leopard print clad arm on his phone.

"Beautiful indeed." I nodded in agreement. "But isn't it pointless to collect if they are not the desired sexuality?" I questioned. Usually, when they collected, they were straight. I knew, just from this picture, that my spine was straighter than he is.

"Oh, yes, that we made sure of when he picked him. Gay as hell." Ben laughed and looked at the picture. "I wouldn't mind tapping that ass of his."

"I can't believe you just said that." I groaned and put my head in my hands. "Now get out of here."

"Alex will be by later to give you the full assignment. Plus some." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and walked away, putting the phone back in his pocket.  
~°~  
As promised, hours later, a tall form entered into the darkening alley shadows. He help up a folder, his whole profile little more than shadows.

"Alex." I greeted and got at once again to my feet. He tossed the folder down at my feet and pushed me against was well behind me. My hands wound around his waist. "Been a while, Allie." I leaned forward and whispered in his ear.

His hands gripped the front of my shirt. "Shut up and kiss me." He said, turning his head and capturing my mouth with his. Kissing him wasn't not all that bad. He was a good kisser, but the reason why was probably not something I wanted to know.

He broke away first, but not before nipping my lip. "Read over that. It has all the information you need in your assignment. We will meet at the designated place and and figure out a way to notify that he is on his way. We will have to beat you up. He is a very helpful personality. So try to get him to help you." He said, sounding almost apologetic about having to beat me up. I highly doubted he was completely sorry about it. "And don't fail this, Hoying."

"Sure you are. I'll see you there." I said, my fingers hooked on his belt loops. When he tried to pull away, I yanked him back. "Not getting away that easy." I smiled.

I felt his hands slide under the hen of my T-shirt and up my stomach. He just smiled back at me, pecked my lips, and unhooked himself. "See you later, beautiful." With that, he disappeared and left me alone in the alley with the folder. Picking it up, I walked to the alley opening.

I opened it and studied the picture. He is lovely. I agreed to Ben's earlier comment. There was another picture of him, in a pair of baggy sweatpants, the v of his hip bones visible. He was shirtless, with his many tattoos visible. It was a blurrier picture, in black and white. He was toned and absolutely beautiful. If he was clean, he would fetch a high price.

I read through the rest of the information. Seventeen, Choir student...blah blah blah. He was 5'10, weighed like a pound. I could pick him up with one hand. He was definitely a good trade.

I had to meet them at eleven. Oh I was not looking forward to that. I had been on the receiving end of Alex's hits before and it was not a pleasant experience. He may have been smaller than me, but man did he have a mean swing.

I edged back into my hole as those heading to bars and other less desirable places began to emerge from cars and other alleys. Everyone who knew anyone in this dark hole I dug myself into to survive knew to stay away from me. I had almost murdered one man, beat up several other people, and have been the cause of several different disappearances of others. This was all because this was the only work I could find, working for those of the crime underground, and that it was the same job I had been doing with Alex for years, even before he became the boss.

I didn't have to worry too much about unwanted people. The occasional drunk, ambit nothing I couldn't deal with. Well, I better get going. That way, I could scour my surroundings. It would make it better for the capture.

For hours I trailed around, aimless. I was surveying the place. It was one of the worse parts of town, and apparently, the young male would walk through here. A stupid and brave move. Stupid because, well, he was a teenager, a pretty one, and here he was walking around alone in Crime Central. Brave because it took guts to walk through here day after day.

"Scott!" I heard a voice hiss at me and I trotted over to the shadow opening. There was Alex, Troye, and his boyfriend, Tyler. Troye and Tyler, to some, may have seemed out of place, but those to were a scary team. Very vicious and dirty fighters. "Sorry again, Hoying." He apologized.

"Before you punch my lights out, tell me the specifics of this mission." I held up my hands, watching as Tyler's pale head ducked behind Troye. Hiding behind his boyfriend, then jumping out and striking when he was dismissed as a coward was his favorite way to strike. I had seen him take out several of our best fighters with this technique.

"Well, get him to come over and help you, and once you have him, tell Ben." He must have seen my lip curl in disgust. "Don't be like that. Anyway. Tyler and Troye will have their car parked further up the street. They will drive along his walking route to report his position of he walks. If not, find another way to get him. But once he is in your clutches, use this," he handed me Chloroform and continued, "and put him in the car. Keep him under as long as you can. It wears off fast so remain vigilant in using it. Can't have him waking up. Am I clear?" I nodded. Okay. It is, oh, eleven? I will wait until he is almost here to attack you. They way, wounds are still fresh." I nodded. I took note of the disappointed looks on Troye and Tyler's faces. They were not happy.

Troye and Tyler left after a little while to go find out hurt what the kid was doing. It wasn't until almost an hour later that I was notified he was almost there. The two reappeared, large, twisted smiles on their faces.

There was no warning between their arrival and a fist connecting with my right eye.

"Shit!" I hissed, just as another hit caught me in the stomach. Thankfully, they were restraining, and the "jump" didn't last to long.

"Go get his help. I will meet you back a HQ. Troye and Tyler will be in the car waiting for you." He said and pulled me to my shaky feet. I leaned against the wall and moved forward out of the alley and to the sidewalk, keeping just put of the Orange halo cast by the street lamp. Only two were fully working, most out completely, with a few others dimly lit.

I slid down the wall and as there, watching the sidewalk to my left. There. I could see his faint outline. He seemed to have already caught eight of me, because he slowly drew nearer.

I looked down and tried my best to look pitiful.

"Hey! Are you okay?" He had a very beautiful voice, a sweet sound in my ears. I quickly his the smile and looked up at his worried face. The light glinted off of a septum piercing as he moved closer.

"Could you help me up? I think I screwed up my leg trying to not get my ass beat. I guess I failed." I cringed at the pain in my ribs brought about by the rusty laugh I supposed. Dry humor always seemed to get them to help you.

Once again, it proved true. He stuck out one of his long fingered hands to me, dropping a small, over the shoulder bag with various school items. I reached an arm up and waited for him to grab it. I could feel him preparing himself to help me up. How cute. And how unbearably stupid.

Barely tugging on his arm to haul my hurting ass off the ground, I grabbed both wrists and pulled him close, flipping him around so that his small frame, his back specifically, was held to my chest. He struggled in silence, probably still shocked enough that he couldn't make any noise other than his frantic breaths.

I pulled my phone out and dialed Ben, kicking the bag into the alley absentmindedly.

"Got him, Bram." I growled the moment the other man answered.

"Now being him back and don't break anything on him if you can help it. Be very careful and keep the cloth handy." Oh my fucking god. You would think he was my mother with the way he spoke so condescendingly.

"Yeah. I know. I'll bring him. In one piece. I have done this countless times before. Jesus. You would think I was a Rookie at this." I said into the receiver, making sure he could hear my exasperation with him and his bossy nature.

"I'll tell Alex when he arrives." He said by way of goodbye.

"See you soon." I ended the call and put the phone into my back pocket. Using my now free hand, I laid it against him mouth, in case he finally learned to use his voice. Then I picked his small struggling form up and carried him to the black car Troye and Tyler had parked down the road. Just before we reached the car door, I cast a look down at his fearful brown eyes. A new emotion sparked in me, unrecognizable. I had never felt this tightening in my chest. One that almost made me want to let him go.

I stopped, all but dropping him, then using my body to pin him in place so he wouldn't just while I pulled out the black cloth Alexander had given me. I pressed it over his face, leaving his eyes clear. I watched him struggle not to breath, watched as he tried to stay concious. He was smarter than most, I'll give him that. But, finally, his resolve died. It always did when the call for air became to strong. One deep breath was a it took for him to start to sag, the eorld no doubt spinning. At long last, he slipped into "sleep" and slid to the right.

I caught his slight body and threw him over my shoulder, slipping into the car and laying him down, head on my lap where I could watch him.

"Drive!" I ordered. Better not keep Alex waiting. He was a scary mother fucker some times.

~°~

Heya! So a little background to Scott's involvement, more on that later.

Oh, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JESUS(AVI). Love you!

The picture above is the first picture Noodle saw of Mitch. The next chapter will have the other one. For those who are wondering, Mitch was sort of a model. Tell me what you think? Maybe leave a vote?

Oh, and stay Sexy!

-Scomiche 


	4. Four

Their punishment lasted for longer than I cared to remember. My back was raw, and the band of my jeans was soaked with blood that leaked from the cuts on my back. Every movement hurt, every breath I took sent pain rippling through my whole body, making me dizzy.

"I don't know. Think he is punished enough?" Ben laughed.

"No. Maybe a few more strikes will get some lesson through his thick skull." The other man responded.

"Right." I could hear their glee. I could hear Ben raising the whip, heard it whistle through the air. After that, only my screams reached my ears.

The whip, which seemed more like a belt cut into strips with a few sharp objects imbedded in each strip, tore across my back four more times before they finally decided I had been punished enough. They kept me chained to the wall, my back to the door. I tried my hardest to stifle my cries, but to no avail. I could feel the blood drip down my back.

Every time I took a breath, fire raced through my veins, making me cry out.

I knelt there, my legs and hands numb, arms in the air, unable to sit back on my legs at least. Until the door behind me opened, there was only silence. I tightened my body as the heavy door swung open.

"They really did a number." Alex. He whistled. "Maybe next time you will think before mouthing off, unless you want to visit Ben and Troye again." Alex said from behind and he walked closer. He reached up and undid my bondage, gripping my arm and lifting me up, keeping my small form up with little effort as my legs gave out.

I felt my self nodding, leaning against him, though my mind disagreed. Never! It cried. He flipped me around to face him, pushing me back against the cold wall, making me cry out, tears leaking down my face.

He ran a hand through my dark bangs. "A very befitting hair cut." He murmured, continuing to slide it along my almost bald sides. He had me pinned and smiled malevolently. "If only pure cargo didn't fetch a high price." He leaned in, whispering in my ear. I shivered from cold and fear. He stepped back, straightening his suit, and gripped my arm tightly again.

"Ow!" I ground out, knowing his vise like grip would leave bruises on my small arm.

"Silence. Now. Ready to see where you will be staying for the next while?" he stated it like a question, but I knew it was far from.

No answer. I didn't respond in anyway. I didn't fight him though. He was too strong and felt like hell.

We took a series of turns until we got to a drafty part of the building. He pushed me into a run down old room and walked forward. "I look forward to tomorrow, Precious." He gripped my face as he leaned in close, then leaned forward more and but my lip, hard. He leaned back at my yelp, letting me go.

Then, with the same smile a business man might give possible customers, all polite and kind, no hint of the snake underneath, he stepped back more and then left the room.

He shut the door and I heard a lock slide into place. I sighed and walked over to the cot they provided with one measly blanket.

I couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh. Thankfully, on the edge, was a new shirt. The one I had on was torn off by Ben and his companion Troye. I picked it up and pulled the old cloth on. It was huge in my, but I didn't care. Baggy clothes hid my insecurities, hid how small I really was.

I climbed onto the cot, fearing it would break under me. As I sat there, I thought over what I had always been told by everyone. "Look how handsome!", "Such a cutie.", "He could be a model. Especially with a face and body like that!" My whole life, everyone commented on my outer beauty, how my eyes sparkled. Commented on how perfect my skinny body was! Even adored my tattoos. Yet not a single one of those people cared for the soul behind the mask, the heart behind those large brown eyes.

This was why I modelled for the kids in art class and other people outside of school, my parents unaware of this. A way to hide my true feelings from others. I remembered a gig I did about a week ago. They had given me a particularly lovely leopard print shirt. And they let me keep it. I remembered the pose, pulling one arm up to cover the left half of my face.

These thoughts lulled me to sleep. They always did. But, like every other time, it took hours. I sat alone, cut off from others, for hours on end. I didn't get up, didn't move, didn't do anything, until my mind was taken in to the warm grasp of sleep.  
~°~  
I don't know how long I was out before I was being shaken awake.

"Get your ass up." The voice grumbled, vaguely familiar.

I forced my tired eyes to open, to take in the sights. It was dark, I could tell that much. Late at night.

"What the hell do you want?" I replied, yawning. I knew mouthing off what probably not the smartest idea of mine ever, but I was tired and I felt like they just put me through a meat grinder.

A hand connected with my cheek, pushing my head to the left. It stung. A lot. I snarled in pain and turned back.

"Watch your mouth, boy!" The same voice scolded. As I met his eyes, I found myself staring at the same man that got me into this. I could only see that he was blonde and still covered in bruises in the faint light from the hallway.

"You!" I hissed, one of my hands resting on my cheek.

"Yeah, me. And you are lucky it is just me, because Ben would have done worse than just tap your cheek. He wants you." The man growled back, his broad build dwarfing my smalled, narrower one, especially from this distance.

I shivered at his words. Ben scared me. I knew, given the chance, he would do unspeakable horrors to me.

"Now get you add up and moving, or I will call Ben in here and leave you two alone." He threatened.

I stood quickly. I didn't know if he would follow through with it, and I didn't want to find out. He grabbed my wrist, bruised from my "punishment", and yanked me along behind him to the lit hallway.

"Where are be going?" I questioned his back as we moved down the hall, trying to move as little as possible, my back stinging like fire.

"Shut your mouth. I don't want to hear it." He moved his hand further up to my bicep and shook me roughly, causing me to bite my tongue to stifle the cry of pain.

"Not until you answer my question." My sentence started as a pained squeak. I knew I was walking on thin ice. These men didn't seem like the most patient bunch. I was right. Not even a second later, my back was slammed against the wall, eliciting a scream of pain from me.

"I told you to shut. Your. Fucking. Mouth!" His face was inches from mine. I would see the anger blazing in His eyes. Blue, I realized. His eye were a lovely blue color, even darkened with anger.

His arm was pressed against my chest, his hand against my right shoulder, his elbow pressing into my other one.

I nodded mutely, biting off the scream in my throat.

He pushed off of me and stood back, grabbing my upper arm again and pulling me with him. Through the building and finally out into the dark, fresh night. We seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, with no signs of life anywhere but around the cars outside.

The man shoved me into one, following after me. There a pair of familiar arms wrapped around my torso, pinning my arms, my escort tying a piece of cloth around my head, cutting out what little visibility I had. I felt arms pull me into their lap. The one who got me I to this mess, that is who no guessed it was. It smelled like him.

"Damn it. I knew we should have discarded that phone!" I heard the voice of Troye. "Now we have to relocate. Not Alex's-" A voice cut him off.

"Don't talk about him that way." It was the man who's lap I sat on. The voice was stern and cold.

"Shut your mouth, Scott. We all know you only say that because he fucked you." A new voice said from the front.

"Shut up, Tyler." The man holding me, Scott, hissed. "I am twice you size and I will pound you into the ground. Don't fuck with me."

At that point, I just tuned them and and snuggled against the heater who held me, drifting off.

~°~

So, what you y'all think so far? If that was confuzzling in anyway, let me know and I will try to explain it. Loves ya!

Oh, and stay Sexy!

-Scomiche 


	5. Five

Kirstie's P.O.V  
I found it hard to focus on school. All day, a voice kept telling me that he was in serious trouble, that Mitch wasn't just with some boy.

You know he isn't just skipping! Do something about it!

The same nagging voice screamed at me during my last class of the day. I was so nervous, I couldn't focus. I was so out of it that my teacher, Mrs. Steck, called me out on it.

"Miss Maldonado? What is the year that Shakespeare died?" She growled from the front of the room, her voice sharp and condescending, as if she had better things to do than teach a bunch of high school kids.

"I do not know, Ma'am. I wasn't paying attention." I said sheepishly, still not fully paying attention to her.

"See me after class." She ordered in her clipped voice. The class did the 'Oh!'s they always did and then fell silent.

"Yes, Mrs. Steck."

"Now, Shakespeare died..." Once again, my attention slipped. I sat there, feeling like, well, I couldn't describe it. It almost seemed like I had Butterflies in my stomach for no reason.

I had kind of explained to Avi over lunch my current situation, but he stuck with the 'He is just fine, don't worry.' route of reassurance. I loved his dearly, but never have I wanted to strangle anyone as much as him right then.

Finally, at long last, the bell rang and people began to file out of class, chattering and joining the masses of people outside the room.

Nel must have known when school got out because she called me almost immediately.

"Kirstie?" She questioned hesitantly,a s though unsure if you had the right person.

"Have you heard from him? At all?" I asked, worrying the fabric of my shirt with my free hand, perfectly aware of Mrs. Steck's beady eyes on me.

"No. Nothing at all. Not contact, no indication that he wants us to know his whereabouts. His father and I are heading to the station to submit a Missing Persons file. You will probably have to come with because you talked with him last." She sighed, a unnameable emotion in her voice.

"So Mitch is still missing? No sign of him?" I knew in my head I had already had this confirmed to me, but my heart was trying to convince itself that this is all just a joke.

"No. Nothing. He hasn't contacted any of us. I think he either disconnected his phone, or is somewhere where the service isn't possible." I could hear her trying to stifle the sobs that wanted to escape. I sat down, my knees no longer able to support me.

"Ahem, Miss Maldonado?" There was Mrs. Steck, standing in front of me, arms crossed over her pin suit clad body.

"Hold on." I said to the phone and looked up. "Yeah?"

"Get off your phone. You and I are going to talk." She growled, tapping her foot on the ground.

"Give me a minute." I held up a finger. "Any clue where we would be? I could go drive along his route and take a look, but I don't know if I can find-" Before I could finish my sentence, Mrs. Steck took my phone and ended the call. She kept her phone in her long fingered grip.

"Now that you are done so rudely ignoring me, I want you to tell me right now what is with your attitude today. And no 'oh, well there's this guy' stuff. That is the oldest trick in the book." Her voice was sharp and that seemed to only make me angrier. She thought that all teenage girls had boy problems. Granted, mine was a boy problem, but not in the manner she meant it.

"You want the honest answer?" I responded, folding my own arms. I tossed my head to the left, throwing the blonde hair out of my eyes.

"Yes."

"Fine. You know Mitchell Grassi. Well, he left my house last night and didn't show up back at his house and didn't return any of my calls last night. And finally this morning, he called me and told me he wasn't coming to school, but he called me princess, which is a code. So I tried to get him to tell me where he is and why he was gone. And that was his mother, giving me updates on any news on my Best Friend, who was possibly kidnapped. All day I have been focusing on that, trying to assure myself that he isnt in danger or dead!" I said, glaring up at her.

Never before had I seen an adult so lost for words. I reveled that moment. "Now. I need my phone. And I am going. I have to find my friend." I grabbed my phone, which she had set on the desk, collected my things, and left, hurrying to the doors of the school.

There was Mrs. Grassi, sitting in their small car with Mr. Grassi sitting in the passenger. I ran over and tapped on the window. It slid down with a noisy protest.

"I will meet you at the station. I am going to go down the route to see if I can find something." I informed them them before turning and leaving to head to my car.

Climbing in, I set my stuff down in the seat beside me and sighed, hoping that I would find him, but I knew, in my secretest heart, that it was a long shot.

I drove from the school to my house and started there, driving slowly along his route. I knew it like the back of my hand. We had lived here our entire lives, in the same houses, so we knew every possible way to each other's houses.

I kept my eyes out as I drove through the particularly rough part of town. As I drove past an alley, something caught me eye. It was the all too familiar school bag that Mitch used. It was carelessly thrown into the alley, the contents, papers, books, pencils, spilling out. I stopped the car and climbed out, taking the keys with me.

I bent down and lifted it up, arranging the contents how I knew he wanted them. Then I returned to my car, fighting back tears. This crushed my hope that he was at someone's house. He wouldn't just leave his bag. Not when that Bag was his pride and joy.

Something terrible has happened to him. You knew it all along and yet, you decided to ignore it. If he is hurt, it is all your fault! My head screamed at me as I began to drive the the police station.

I stole glances every now and again at the bag, letting myself imagine the spunky teen sitting next to me, belting out song lyrics.

I fought back tears, chanting my mantra of "You'll only smear your Mascara and Eyeliner!" repeatedly as I pulled into the station. I left everything but my phone and keys in the car. As I pushed open the door, I was immediately met with a flurry of people of all ages, genders, and races racing around, papers flying in the air at one point off one of the desks, followed by a string of none to quiet curses.

"Kirstin?" The familiar voice of Mr. Grassi asked me as I looked around at the confusion. I saw them both and walked over ducking out of the way and murmuring apologies.

They were seated, watching a sharp faced woman work at her computer. "Tori!" She eventually called, her voice as harsh as her features. The name sounded familiar and I say there and pondered it until a familiar head of blonde curls aproached.

"Yes ma'am? What can I get for you?" I vaguely remember Tori telling me she got a job as an intern, but it wasn't until now I realized it was at the Police Station.

"Take this couple and their...companion back to Chief. Oh, and tell Travis to come here as well." She never looked up from her computer screen, typing away busily.

My classmate shook her head up and down before facing us. Her mouth dropped open as she took all three of us in. "Kirstie?" She gasped as she walked around the counter and pulled me into a hug.

"Tori! Now!" The woman snapped and my school mate nodded and beckoned for us to follow. As she lead us through the building, she finally posed a question.

"Who are they? Their not your parents. I know that." She bumped my hip with her's and cast a glance back at Mitch's parents.

"Those are Mitch's mom and dad."

"There is only one reason why parents are back here..." She said quietly and looked up at me. "He was kidnapped, wasn't he? Wait. No. You don't have to answer that. I'm not supposed to ask that." She ducked her head in shame, silent until we passed a certain door with a boy scribbling and typing faster than I could even process.

"Travis!" She called and the boy lifted his eyes to her, pausing his work. He watched us with brown eyes, his blonde hair styles up.

"Yes?" He asked, almost irritated to be bugged, I guessed, by the sound of his voice.

"Receptionist wants you." I couldn't help but smile at how they called her by her occupation.

"Great!" He groaned and muttered something about a 'whore' and 'Alex' as he stood and brushed past us.

"Now that that is taken care of..." She drifted off as we reached a door at the end of a long hallway. She knocked and a voice commanded their entry.

"See you at school." Tori smiled and headed back down the hall.

"Tell Toddy I say hi!" I yelled after her and then followed the older couple into the room. There, as a desk, sat a burly man with bushy eyebrows and a bushy graying mustache. His gaze was close together and all around severe looking.

"So, a missing teenager is your report?"

~°~  
Please, I would love feedback to know what to improve upon. If you guys really want me to, I can stop writing Chapters from Kirstie's P.O.V.

Oh, and stay Sexy!

-Scomiche ❤ 


	6. Six

Mitch's P.O.V  
I was thankfully asleep until we reached our destination. That way, I didn't have to deal with the fear of one of them hurting me because I opened my mouth.

"Wake up!" That same familiar voice, Scott, growled as I was shook awake. I uselessly opened my eyes, knowing there was no reason to. I was still blindfolded. What were they hiding from me? Other than the obvious, their true intentions for me.

I heard the door open and rough hands grabbed my shoulders and yanked me out of the car, other hands pushing on my back. I let out an involuntary whimper of pain. My back stung like fire. Especially where they touched it.

"Take that damn thing off! The Client wants to see his pretty face for themselves. A blindfold hinders that request." I recognized that voice too. It was that Alex guy.

Someone tore off the cloth from around my eyes, pulling some of my hair on the way. I kept my eyes down, watching the legs and shoes off all those I could. Alex was easy to distinguish from the rest, in his dressy pants and shoes. That same focus drew closer, crunching dirt under his feet.

His hand snaked under my chin and forced me to look up at him, eyes blazing.

A smile crept across his face. I didn't like the way it contorted his face into a vile mask. "Oh! This should be quite fun! You have never had Sex before, which means that you're going to be quite fun. Too bad it can't be me enjoying that. But, at least I will get money out of it." He drew back and clapped his hands, a rounder lady with bright, strawberry red hair responding instantly. She trotted closer, eyes expectant.

"Yes, Sir?" She inquired, raising a curious eyebrow.

"I need him unrecognizable. Preferably with short hair that is a different color as well." He ordered and she nodded. "Oh, and make him beautiful for the camera. We are video chatting his soon to be owners."

"Come along!" Her hands clasped on my upper arm and dragged me towards the house. It wasn't a bad looking one either.

In the front door, through the hallways and up stairs, at last they reached a large bathroom. There were cosmetic...things all over the counter.

"What are you going to do?" I asked, cursing myself for letting my voice shake.

"Make-up and the like." She replied, tipping my head side to side, looking over it.

"Let's start with your hair!" She tapped her chin, letting mine go. "You would look good with blonde!" She finally decided.

Little over two hours later, she handed me a mirror. I gawked. My once dark hair was now almost blindingly blonde, and shorter. She cut it to just under my eye.

"So? What do you think?" Her voice was eager.

"It is...strange." I said cautiously.

"You don't like it?" She pouted.

"No, I like it. It is just...I am not used to blonde hair. But no. I do really like it." I said, laying a hand on her shoulder. I smiled widely, then looked at my hair again. As I did, there was a pounding on the door.

"Nicole!" The cherry red haired woman responded. "What do you want? He isn't out, which should be a clear indication that I haven't finished!"

Ben answered. "Alex told me to tell you to hurry. The call happens soon." I heard his mutter something else, but I couldn't understand him through the door. The woman sighed and looked at me.

"One screw up in life, and you are stuck here." She motioned me over to the chair she had set up. "I used to be a make-up artist for singers, all kinds, until one claimed I have fouled them in some way and got me fired. No one would hire me. Except Alex." She ran her hand through her hair and picked up a bottle filled with creamy liquid.

She squirted some of it out onto my wrist and shook her head. "Too pale." Several bottles later, she had found my tone.

"What exactly is this you are putting on my face?" I asked as she dabbed the little pink egg shaped thing with the make-up on my face.

"Foundation." She answered. "Now stop talking. Makes my job harder." She ordered gruffly.

Several minutes later, she had finished with the foundation, powder, blush, some lip gloss, and even a little eye make-up.

When she started to apply the eyeshadow to my eyes, I questioned.

"Trust me. The prettier you look, the nice Alex with treat you because he doesn't want to damage your beauty. So I am helping with that. He will be even nicer if you impress the client." She explained as she finished up. She stepped back. "Now take a look."

I stood back up and walked the the mirror to examine myself. "Woah." I gasped. My face was smooth, unblemished, with a slight pink to my cheeks, full lips, and my eyes. I had never seen my eyes so pronounced. I had to admit. I was cute.

"Nicole!" It was the Scott dude this time. "Is he ready?" I shuddered. Acting like I was nothing more than a doll or some item you could buy at a store.

That is all you are to these people. A voice in my head said bitterly. I mean, think about it, stupid. They keep calling you Cargo, they even told you they were going to sell you, and Nicole told you pretty ones were worth more.

Maybe this voice is were I got my sassiness and my sarcasm.

She looked me over once more. "No outfit change?" She questioned. I looked down at my torn, dirty jeans, and the white and green striped shirt with a large hole in the front, over my left breast, bearing my DeadMau5 tattoo.

"If you are fast." Scott replied. He seemed tired. I wanted to know why.

"I will be. Five minutes. That is all I ask." Nicole replied and gave me a once over. "I have just the thing."

Five minutes later, I was in a large, low cut, black V-neck and skinny jeans that shimmered in a way that made me think they were covered in graphite. I had on a pair of black vans, and my hair was styled neatly.

She opened the door and I saw Scott standing there. I hugged her, murmuring a "Thank you" in her ear, then turned to face my escort.

As we walked away, I heard her call after us. "Good luck, boy."

~°~  
I am pathetic. So sorry for not updating this. Anyway, any suggestions as to who the buyer should be? Doesn't even have to be a real person. PM or comment names and/or general character traits? I am out of ideas.

Who's Point of View do you want next? Kirstie? Scott? Mitch's again?

Oh, and stay sexy  
-Scomiche❤ 


	7. Seven

As we traversed through the dark hall, I felt Scott's large hand reach around and rest on my hip.

"Get your filthy fucking hands off of me." I moved away, smacking his arm.

He moved forward and pushed me against the wall. "I would watch your mouth, unless you want to get into some serious trouble. Trust me when I say that the man who wants you is so much less forgiving than everyone here. I have heard that no one had told him 'no' before and survived, especially his fucktoys." He backed off and yanked me with him, forcing me to walk with him down the hall.

"Little bit of advice." He whispered in my ear. "Make a good show. The Clients love when their choices make a show." With that, he shoved me into a room.

It was a large room, with nothing more than what appeared to be a conference center of sorts. There was a huge Television, and what appeared to be a camera on top of it.

Scott announced our arrival, making Alex turn around. He whistled and walked closer.

"Remind me to pay Nicole extra well. She did a damn good job." He grabbed my chin and tipped my head from side to side. Must be his favorite thing to do. "Damn." He said again.

I ripped my face out of his grip, glaring at him. "Don't fucking touch me."

Next thing I knew, my head craned to the side from the force of the backhand. My cheek stung and I raised a hand. He shoved me to the ground. I landed hard, tearing open a few of the lacerations on my back.

"You will show respect, or You will wish that you were in hell. Because trust me, you slut, what I can do to you is worse than hell, but my punishments seem like heaven compared to the Clients. So many body dumps. All because the damn whores wouldn't listen." He snarled and reached down, yanking me to my feet. "Now you will be a good little hoe, won't you?" He whispered sweetly in my ear.

I had no option. I nodded and he let me go, slapping my backside.

I held my tongue, making not a sound. Alex chuckled. "See? You're learning."

I didn't react. I just shut down, going into my head, trying to block out this nightmare.

Suddenly, there was a ringing that split through the air. The TV clicked on and I risked a look up.

There was a man standing there, mid to late twenties, with fiery hair and cheeks covered in freckles. Once again, I found myself admiring the enemies. My thought train paused. "Enemy". I had never thought of anyone as that, but that is exactly what these men were.

"Is this the boy?" The man said. He, like Alex, was well put together, a pleasant mask on his face. But I didn't believe it. Not at all. I didn't believe that he was as pleasant as his face portrayed.

"Yes. This is the boy you requested." Alex agreed walking forward and wrapping his arms around my torso. I stiffened until he breathed a sentence in my ear.

"How good are your acting skills?" Then his lips pressed to the space where the corner of my jaw met my neck, just under my ear. More words were whispered. "You better hope they're good." Then he moved his lips down to where my neck met my shoulders and sucked harshly on the skin.

I knew playing it up would and better for me, so I moaned. I felt him smile against my neck as I gave another moan. One of his thin hands slipped under and up my shirt, running across my stomach, then up to cross my chest. His other hand slipped into the waist band on my jeans, tugging at them.

Then he let me go, spun me around, and kissed me. I froze.

What the hell!? My head shrieked as he forced his tongue into my mouth.

He took my moment of surprise and slip a hand in my jeans to cup my bare ass. Again, I let out a slutty moan, the sound muffled against his lips.

"Okay! Enough. I still want the damn thing pure." The man on the screen growled and Alex let me go, his pupils blown wide.

"You, the little blonde whore, turn around and face me."

I did as he ordered, but dropped my gaze. I stared at my feet, feeling positively defiled. He had his hands in my pants with out my consent. He touched me. Kissed me. I felt disgusting.

"Look up at me." He commanded and I did, focusing my dark brown eyes on his harsh, freckles face. "I did choose very well with this one. He will be fun. And from what I saw, can make some beautiful sounds with his mouth. Can't wait to find out all of the sounds I can elicit from those lips." He smiled, his face contorting. I didn't like it.

As I stood there, Alex yanked me backwards and moved in front of me. "Hide your face, you little slut." He hissed and I turned and ducked my head, listening to the two men talk.

"Now that you have seen him, what are you willing to pay?" Alex asked, some how coming of as cold and civil at the same time.

"Well, don't I get a free trial might with him?" The man asked coyly.

"Hell no. We all know you would fuck him, then decide you don't want him, then leave us to try and get someone to take an impure. No. You pay up front of you want him." Alex replied. I stopped listening. The rest of the conversation was about money and things of that sort. Nothing I understood in the least. Well, I tuned them out until the call was about to end.

"Deal." The two men said in unison.

"I will be by tomorrow morning. I will be sending one of my agents tonight with an outfit. I want him in that when I get there to collect. Am I clear, Mr. Kirk?"

"Crystal, Drake." Then the call ended and Alex turned to me. "Your pretty face is fetching a good price. Scott! Take him back to the room." Alex gave me a cold smile, the look never leaving his face as I was moved out of the room by the blonde man.

~°~  
Hey! I actually updated. Go me! I have a class that I have to finish, missing work, and several different end of the year things coming up so the updates may be far between.(like a week.)

Shout out to SirenNightwalker for the idea behind Drake.

Oh, and stay sexy  
-Scomiche❤ 


	8. Eight

Early on A/N. I know, unheard of. Anyway. Until further notice, I will be suspending all Points of view except Mitch's(And possibly Scott's, but no promises) So, thought I would just inform you of that now.

I had never slept so poorly before. I was up all night, seeing that man's hungry face looking over my body, his harsh features every time I closed my eyes.

As morning light began to seep into the cellar closet through the small window, my door burst open. It was Scott.

"Come. Time for you to go." He growled. I stood up and did as directed. I was still in the clothes I wore for the conference last night. "These won't do." He decided. I highly doubted Alex cared. So why did Scott? He seemed like Alex's perfect little lap dog, always willing to do as the other blonde said.

But I kept my mouth shut until we reached a door, knocked, and Nicole opened up.

"Why the hell am I back here? Not that I don't enjoy your company, Nicole, but you know..." I asked stepping away from Scott shoving his hand away.

"Do not start this, boy." He growled, stepping forward, Nicole watching boredly. "Not when you are so close to meeting your new partner."

"Ha! Have you ever known how it feels to stand there, watching people decide your fate, knowing your family has no idea where you went, or if you are safe." I snarled at him. "My best friend warned. And yet, she will never know just what happened to me."

He slapped me, anger glowing in his eyes. What the fuck did these people see in slapping? They did it constantly. Immediately after, his had closed around my throat, gripping it tightly.

Around the blockage in my throat, I snarled at him, lifting a lip. I am not still entirely sure what else happened, other than the hand on my throat retracted, something connected with my eye and me opening my eyes, or eye, rather, and found Nicole leaning over me, laying no heed to me as she yelled at Scott.

"Now he has a fucking black eye. Way to go! You are such a damn idiot." She pushed him. "Go away. Come and get him when the Client actually arrives. I will try to hide the black eye."

She then leaned back over me and helped me to my feet, steadying me as I stumbled.

"Come now, child. Let's get some ice on that and clean you up." She walked me into the room, then shut and locked the door.

"You poor thing. But mouthing off to them is not helping your situation." She turned her back to me as she buried herself. Then she turned back. It was a small mask like thing with little water beads.

"Orbees." I claimed as she handed it to me.

"Close. This is the closest to an ice pack I have." She shrugged and handed it to me.

I pressed it to my eye with a hiss of pain. "Damn. He has a solid swing." I grumbled.

"Trust me. His are nothing compared to Alex's. And even Troyler's. Oh." She stopped and chuckled. "I forget. You don't know who Troyler is. It's the name we have started to call Troye and Tyler. Those two are dangerous."

I laughed bitterly. "Yeah. I know. You've seen my back. Troye did that." She sighed and walked to a conjoining door. She opened it. It was that bathroom.

"Come on. Clothes. You need some new ones."

This time, she stuck me in the sluttiest clothes I think she could find. It was a black tube top, with tassels hanging down to brush my stomach, and a pair of low riding shorty shorts, my v-line quite visible.

"Now you are ready." She decided and when I gave her a look, then glanced at my clothes, holding my arms out in question.

"The smaller the clothing is, the better for you in the long run." She stated. "And Drake wanted you to wear these."

"Do I really have to go without underwear?" I interrogated.

"Trust me. The only underwear I have that would fit somewhat under something that short are women's, and they would not provide support." She said. "Now, let's see what we can do about that bruise on your face."

Again, I sat through her dabbing make up all over my face. I didn't mind it much. I actually really liked how I looked in make up. It was interesting. In my head, I sang to myself.

I feel pretty. Oh so pretty. I am unsure of exactly where I learned that song. All I knew was that I knew it. And it was constantly in my head. No matter how long it had been since I thought of it.

"There." She said, finally finished with me. I took the mirror and couldn't help my reaction.

"Damn!" I examined myself closer. It's like I had never even had the bruise. "Damn." I said again. It was the only word that expressed my feelings on the current subject.

There was and insistent pounding at the door.

"Nicole! Send the little whore out. The client will be here soon. And Alex wants to run through some last few things with the cargo first." It was Scott. Thank god. I feared he would send Ben. And I wouldn't have survived that.

"My name is not 'the Cargo'." I muttered angrily under my breath. "It's Mitch."

"Yeah, yeah." Nicolce called back and looked at me, her eyes sad. "I wish you the best of luck. Just don't mouth off or question and you should do just fine. You have a pretty face, which will get you far. People won't want to damage you too bad."

I nodded, giving her a quick hug and thanking her for all she has done, then braved the horrors beyond and opened the door.

There was Scott, leaning back against the wall, a pair of cuffs in his hand. "Alex wants you to wear these." He didn't spare me a glance, just scoffed and the shake of his head and something about Nicole trying to tease the men.

As we arrived at our destination, Scott strapped the cuffs around my wrists, holding them in front of me. Then he pushed me out of the house. He walked over to join Alex who stood on the porch.

"Ah. Here the cargo is." Alex. I hated him with a passion.

I glared at the blonds as they both studied me, side by side, hazel and blue eyes running over my exposed flesh. "You know what they say. Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. And you...you are beautiful." Somehow, I knew that wasn't a compliment I wanted.

"Remind me to pay Nicole extra. She made this cargo extremely enticing." He walked forward and tapped my chin until I looked up at him. "You will be a good little fucktoy. I don't want to have to tell my client that there are no refunds, then have to buy you back to keep my business going. Because, trust me, boy. You will not like the consequences." He snaked and hand into my shorts and I stiffened, forcing down the urge to throw up. Before Alex could do anything else, a car drove up, tires crunching on the dirt.

The car stopped and doors opened. At last, that same ginger haired man stepped out of the car and walked over.

"Hello, Mitchell."


	9. Nine

Please don't kill me?

This chapter was really hard to write. I almost didn't. But I felt like it should be.

Warning: Abuse and Rape...smut?[I think](seriously though. Don't kill me?)

The whole car ride the man was all handsy, his hands sliding over my zipper and down the inside of my thighs. I shuddered.

Finally we got to what I assumed was his house. I hate to admit it was a very nice house. If once could even call it that. It was a mansion. The house was massive. Plus, it seemed to have it's own personal army.

"Master Drake." A butler greeted at the door, his graying hair slicked back, his suit pressed. He watched me with cold gray eyes. "I will make accommodations for dinner then?" He asked.

"Don't be silly, Jensen. The whore will be so sore afterwards, it won't be hungry." I stated at my feet at I walked, but my hands tightened at my sides. 'It'. He called me an it.

Half way down a hallway, he stopped and shoved me against the wall, making me cry out. "Shut your mouth. You are here for nothing more than my pleasure. As such, you will not speak unless I directly order you to. And you will call me Master. You are the lowest of the low in this house, and any report of bad behavior and you. Will. Be. Punished. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, master." I muttered, looking at the man straight in the face. He slapped me. Harder than Alex or Scott, or even Ben, had.

"And another thing. You will never look anyone in the eye. That would make you seen like their equal." He snarled and stepped back. Then his hand wrapped tightly around my upper arm and he pushed me down the hall and into a room. It wasn't too shabby of a room. As he shoved me in, I risked a look. His face was a twisted mask. He shut and locked the door, turning to smile at me, through it was a cruel smile.

I stood there, all the while, watching him, shaking. I had never known fear until now.

He moved over to me and laid a soft hand on my cheek, cooing. "Is the little whore scared?" His cooing turned to sneering and I just stared at my feet. I knew, somehow, that he would kill me, and enjoy every second of it.

His hand went to the shirt Nicole stuck me in, tugging at it, then whispering in my ear. "You are asking for this, wearing clothes like this, you fucking slut."

Somehow, I managed to get a single, strangle word past my lips.

"N-no." Tears streamed down my face, smearing my makeup.

He back-handed me, making me fall to the ground. "You remember what I told you?" He snarled. Gone was the pleasant faced man who had bought me. "Now shut up."

The shirt must have been made for this purpose because it came away with very little pull from the man. He growled and tossed it aside, ordering my to my feet.

I stood slowly, my legs feeling like jelly under me as I stood before him, shirtless, relying on the thin band of shorts to cover me. He stepped towards me, making me back up, then he shove me viciously. I fell back into a bed and he climbed on top of me, straddling my hips. He leaned in and kissed my unyielding lips.

He drew back, but occupied himself with me in another way. He shifted back and ran his hands on the outsides of my thighs, slipping them into my shorts. I tried to get him off, tried to stop this, but he was bigger than I was. He drew his hands back and snarled.

"Fine. You want it the hard way?" He climbed off of me and ordered me to follow. I did as told, stumbling after him, feeling disgusting. It felt like where ever he had touched me, he left tar. He lead me through the house, like he was parading me, a shirtless, scared seventeen year old toy, for all his employees to see.

Then, we reached a door. He swung it open, revealing a set of stairs down to a dark basement, and told me to go first. I did so, just waiting for him to push me or strangle me. But we reached the bottom and he kept his hands to himself. He skittered around me, like a cockroach, his hands rubbing together. He led me into a damp room.

I froze at the door. There was a single, old bed that looked like a tourtue device on its own, with a huge array of "toys", From chains to vibrators to a huge assortment of whips and other pain inducing devices. None of it looked pleasing.

"You will strip. Now. Or the consequences will not be so fun." He growled. I didn't dare risk it and I did as he told me.

"Eh." Was all he said as he walked around me, like a shark waiting to attack. Then his hand snaked around and grabbed my member.

"Oh!" I gasped, eyes widening as he gave it a hard squeeze. Then he let me go and pushed me roughly towards the bed.

I say on the edge, staring at the ground. His feet appeared in my field of vision and he pushed at my shoulder, forcing me down. He was naked. I froze.

"You know what, my little slut? On the floor." He pointed and I scrambled off the bed. He sat on the edge and motioned me over. "Suck." He ordered. I resisted his hand on my arm until he uttered a threat so soft I almost missed. "Trust me boy, you do not want to disobey me."

Trying to stop the tears, I dropped to my knees. I reached up and wiped my eyes, probably smearing my make up. Then, forcing myself to retreat into a space in my head, I did as he ordered.

First, I kissed up and down his shaft, then took him in my mouth, but after that, it was all him. He snatched up a fistful of my hair and held my head stationary as he thrust himself into my mouth. I wanted to die, but to raise my chances of survival, I tried to dislodge his hand from my hair.

"Don't fight me." He snarled, pausing. I took this opportunity to run my tongue up the side of his dick. He moaned.

"Damn boy." He then jerked me back by my hair, forcing a cry of pain out of me. He the narrowed his eyes, almost thoughtfully, as he stated at me.

"Oh, I know exactly what to do with you." He smiled, looking like a serpent, then pointed to the bed. "Lay down. On your stomach, and do not look at me." He ordered and I quickly climbed onto creaking bed, my heart pounding as I did what he said. I heard him moving around, heard the jingling of various items of the wall. Then it went silent. I couldn't tell where he was, not over my heart and my head, both screaming at me that in was going to die in this hell hole.

Then, there he was, with some sort of gag in his hand. Laughing, he leaned in and gagged me, making the gag painfully tight.

Once again, I lost him. But only for a second, because the bed dipped and his hands, cold to the touch, lifted my hips. Then, with no warning, he slammed into me, making me let out a muffled scream of pain.

"Oh, god!" I sobbed into the gag as he withdrew then repeated the process. Saliva dripped down my face with my inability to close my mouth or swallow.

Everyone always said it was such a beautiful experience, losing your virginity. But this was not that. There was no love, no passion in here. No. This was not what they said it was. I was being split open. It felt like in was being cut open with hot knives. I felt something warm trickle down my legs. Blood. I knew, only from the pain, that it couldn't be anything else. I sobbed even louder, mind dizzy with pain.

"You feel so good." He said over my pleas, panting as he thrust into me.

"Just shoot me! Please! End it!" I cried, fingers digging into the mattress, my nails dragging painfully on the material.

They always said sex was an experience all on its own, the pants, the build up to your high, the release, but I felt none of that. I felt defiled. I felt disgusting. I felt...powerless.

That realization hit me hard. I had never before felt so powerless. Even as a kid, when I had to get a shot or anything, my parents always waited until I was ready before they let the nurse go ahead. But now? Nothing I did mattered. I could fight, fight with all my strength, and end up dead in a ditch somewhere, my parents never knowing, or I could do as he said and like life as a living sex toy, simply alive for his pleasure. But I was completely powerless.

I had no say in my future anymore.

At that moment, my spirit broke. I knew which option I was to do. I know which option was the one I would choose. I was nothing more than that, simply a toy for his pleasure, that could make noise.

Over my thoughts, I heard one thing, his scream as he shot into me. I was disgusted with myself.

Worthless whore! Slut! Cunt! Fuckboy! My head screamed as he pulled out of me.

"You stay right where you are." Obediently, I froze, moving not even an eyelash. He returned and cuffed me to the bed post.

"Good night, you damn slut." He then hit me, repeatedly. My screams were muffled by the gag. As he hit me, he repeated the names out loud that my head was screaming at me inside.

Then he left me there. Tied up.

Powerless.

In the dark, around my sobs, I gave one single silent plea.

Help.


	10. Ten

I don't know how, but somehow I managed to fall asleep, but it was disturbed by nightmares of Drake with his hands all over me, he face that of a demon's, malformed, hideous.

I woke up several times in the night screaming in the gag, pulling at my restraints. I was in pain. My head swam.

I was making my self bleed even more with all of my moving, warm blood dripping down my arms from wounds I had inflicted from all the yanking.

I wanted out. I needed out. But I knew that the prayers I sent to whoever was up there, watching me, were songs sung for deaf ears. That great being didn't care. Oh, no. If he cared, I wouldn't be in this mess.

I felt dirty. I wanted to burn my skin. I hurt, and my back, slick with sweat and blood, kept sticking to the bed, tugging painfully whenever I moved.

That was not what I imagined my first time to be like. I never had any specifics, but I knew for a fact that being a human sex toy was not it.

Then something else came to mind my parents wouldn't want me back. Not after they learned what happened to me.

I could only imagine what else this man had in store for me, and I feared the day he was done with me. Would he kill me? Would he toss my body somewhere where no one would ever find it? Would anyone ever suspect him?

Face it, you dumb bitch, you are expendable to him. You are simply here so that he had fuck your slutty ass. And you can deny all you want that you love it, but I know. I know you are hungry for it, thirsty for the pain, for the slicked skin.

There it was again. That voice. The voice that screamed at me in the voices of people I knew.

No one wants you now. Think about it, you damn whore, you are nothing but a breathing faggot fucktoy. Your parents aren't looking for you. Why would they? You are nothing but a slutty bitch who wants nothing more than sex, the rough kind. They don't love you.

No! I didn't want this. I didn't. I would have done anything to get away from this nightmare, even ended my life on my own.

But the voice was true. I was just a dirty slut. He had taken from me the one thing that I had that was precious. Now, I could never answer that question, not with out the looks others, especially adults, gave.

To my self, I whispered out a garbled mess of gag muffled words. Then I began to cough after I tried and fail to swallow.

"I have waited a thousand years."

That was what I hoped my parents whispered, what I hoped they would say, if they ever rescued me from this hell hole. Three days. That is all the more I had been in here and it was already hell. He hasn't even begun with this torture. That, I knew.

But he had forced me to do that with him. He raped me, and no one would ever know. Not ever. It would be the horrific secret I carried because men are not allowed to get raped. It's impossible. If they are gay and they are raped? They wanted it. Because they're gay. "Men can't be raped. Only women. And only the men are the rapists." That what society said.

I had to hide, because otherwise, I would be shunned. That was fucked up. Tell the victim of rape it was their fault or that because of something, their stories don't matter, and they will start to believe it.

They will sink into themselves, afraid of everything because they could end up the the same place they were before, powerless as someone else used them.

Too many people got away with it. I don't know how I knew, but I knew that Drake was never going to be punished for his crime. He had too much money. Get himself in jail? He can pay his own bail. He had the funds for it.

Here I was, lower than whatever was under his foot.

I laid there, unable to fall back asleep after my latest episode, thinking over this. Again, I found myself praying.

"Help me. Kill me if you have to."

I already told you, cunt. Nobody is coming and nobody cares. I bet you, your parents are out celebrating right now, glad they managed to unload a burden like you into someone else.

As the voice continued on, telling so many time how worthless I am, there was a shuffling sound, and the steps in the stairway creaked as someone descended them.

I slammed my eyes shut and tried my best to pretend to be asleep. The bed dipped and I tensed.

"You poor boy." It was a female's voice, older. "You look too innocent to be in this mess. I am sorry. So, so sorry that you were pulled into this horror story. I bet someone is back home, looking for you, praying you will make it safely home." I opened my eyes and found myself staring at a shadowed, wrinkled face.

"Oh, did I wake you?" She asked, going to move.

I shook my head and mumbled something. That's all the more it came out as, anyway.

"I will put this on as soon as our conversation finishes. Just promise not to tell the Master. He will be very out out on the matter." She whispered to me, pointing to the gag and I nodded slowly, watching her, closing one of my fists and holding my pinkie up to the air.

"Good." She reached forward and untied it, pulling it away after a few struggling moments.

"So, what is your name?" She asked as she say on the edge of the bed, stroking my hair, like my mother used to.

That though made my throat closed and I only barely managed to get a strangled "Mitch" out.

"Please, don't cry, Mitch. You have every right, but if you cry, I cry and we run the risk of the Master finding us out. Which would be bad for both of us." She looked away, wiping one of her eyes.

"What's your name?" I asked softly, smiling weakly at her. This situation didn't warrant one, but I still gave it.

"Well, before I came here, before the Master hired me, my mother called me Esfir. But now, it's just Bitch. Or, if I'm lucky, Maid." She laughed bitterly, then froze. There was the creaking of floor boards and the sound of glass hitting the ground. She looked at me, eyes sad, then placed the Gag back on, but not before I got one last question out.

"What does Esfir mean?"

She tied it and began to walk away before she answered. "My mother always told me that it meant Star Like, bright. I have no claim to that name. Not in this hell hole." With that, she left me alone, to think over her.

~°~  
This chapter was the second hardest to write because of all of the negative things. I know that people read those things in their own voices sometimes, and I didn't want people to see themselves in those words, but they add to the story. You know what? I'll just shut up Now. Y'all probably don't want to hear this much from me.

Oh, and stay sexy  
-Scomiche❤ 


	11. Eleven

Two months. That is all the longer I was with Drake. In that time, though, I saw how ruthless he was. The moment my back had healed again, he cut four long stripes in my back, from my shoulder blades to my hips, two on each side of my spine.

I saw him smack Maid into the wall, saw the scar on her face, given to her by Drake.

Only aloud, around everyone but Maid, I called him The Master. But the moment it was just us, or in my head, it was Drake. He didn't deserve the respect that 'The Master' title gave him. So I didn't give it to him.

There were other horrors he did to me. He forced me to cut, let my hair grow unruly, and fucked anywhere he felt like it. Even in the Living room where they all could have watched. It was demeaning, and I knew, knew he was doing all this with one purpose in mind.

Break my spirit.

He succeeded, just before he sold me to someone else. But before I could go to this new owner, I had to go to the middle man. Alex.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the little whore. Drake told me you serve a good time. I may have to take him up on that." Alex walked forward and hugged me, resting his hands on my ass. I didn't fight, just stood there, head bowed, eyes shut tight.

"Are you a good boy?" He asked and I replied meekly.

"Only if you deem me so, Sir. I am nothing but I lowly slut. I cannot rightly answer a question only higher people may ask and answer."

"Damn. Drake was a good choice. He broke you quickly. I bet you will love out new client. He is willing to still pay a lot for you, even though you are no longer a virgin. Drake told me you were such a good bottom. Now look at me." He tapped my chin and I froze.

Drake said I was not allowed to deny a request, but he also said I was not allowed to look at anyone.

"Disobedient. Care to explain why?" His voice took on an edge as his grip on my ass tightened.

"Well, The Master told me that I am unallowed to look others in the eye, but he also told me to listen to orders, sir. I guess, if I may, that I was torn between two rules, sir." I hated it, but I had to escape punishment. I could only imagine what other horrors these men had in store as far as punishments went.

What about my new owners. It was inevitable. I wasn't going to be getting out. Not unless I died.

"Ah. Well , Drake owns you no more. And I say, you will do as I say, which means look me in the eye, unless I have otherwise instructed you to do so. Understand? Oh, and I am Master to you."

"I understand your rules, Master." I looked up at him and he smiled.

"I would bang you around, but I will reserve that right for your new owners." He decided.

"Yes, Master. Thank you, Master." I submitted.

"Damn. Such a good little whore. So submissive. I wonder if there are things you won't do? Well, are there?"

"No, Master. I am only here to please. Which means, master, doing as I am told, even if it is painful." I replied sweetly.

"I can definitely see why you are so wanted." He said. "Probably a good time in bed. Which will be good for your new Owners."

They locked me in a room for two days, my only human interaction was when they gave me food. Finally the day came and I was handed over to that same red haired woman. Nicole, I think she said her name was.

She made me beautiful, but put me in some more modest clothes, including a tank top.

Then, like last time, I was lead to the front of the house by Scott.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't surprised. I was a expecting a sleezebag with lots of money, like Drake, but these men were dressed in everyday clothes and looked me over once before nodding and motioning to the car, ordering I climb in.

As they paid, I did as instructed, sitting in the middle, making my self as small as I could.

"He should definitely boost our collection. I mean, look at him." One of the two said as they climbed in.

One was a brown haired man with darker skin and an obviously Latino accent. The other man sounded...British almost. He had sandy blonde hair and a heterochromatic eyes, one blue, the other half brown, half blue. I couldn't help but state at him, taking in the broad shape of his jaw and shoulders.

The ride was silent. As the car began to move, I dropped my gaze to my lap. I couldn't believe that these men were keeping their hands to themselves. I sat there, tense, expecting one of them to try something, but they were respectful, almost, of me, talking to each other over quietly, careful to keep their hands to themselves.

We pulled up to the back of a building and both climbed out, the one to my left, the Latino, holding out a hand to me.

I took it cautiously, and he helped me from the car.

"You are definitely a sight to behold. Let's get you cleaned up and fix hour hair and make sure you are stubble free." He said and traipsed around the car, holding me on his arm like a trophy.

"The girls will absolutely love you. As will our customers. Let's just hope you are quick to pick up on dance moves." The other man said, walking up to join us. "And that you can do it in a wig."

"Sirs?" I asked softly, looking at my feet as we walked closer to a door with a well built man standing in front of it.

"Yea, precious?" the Blonde man asked.

"If a lowly creature such as I may be so bold, what is this place?" I inquired.

"Ah. Welcome to the only Drag Queen Club in town, the Jade Ecstasy." They waved with a flourish of their hands. "Go meet the others."

~°~  
So, time to welcome Lulu. I will try to keep it as accurate as possible with this stuff as I can, but no real promises.

Oh, and stay sexy  
-Scomiche❤ 


	12. Twelve

They pushed me into a room that was filled with the smoke of cigarettes and the stench of perfume.

"Where is Belli?" The blonde asked as the Latino lead me to one of the empty tables and mirrors, sitting me down.

"Right here, Boss." A voice called out and I turned to see just who it was that spoke. It was a Woman. No. A man. I didn't know. I was so confused. They looked and sounded like a man, but with a woman's face. They, I decided, walked forward and smiled at the men.

"What'd'ya need, boys?" They asked, winking in my direction.

"I need you to teach our newest." The Latino instructed. "Tell him what is expected and the like."

"Yeah, yeah. I know what to do." They smiled. "I mean, you've seen Saren's face? I remember, it was like working with freaking mount Rushmore. And Gardina kept kept laughing." They rushed in and Only the blonde laughed.

"Yeah. I remember. Now, please, do as we ask, so disciplinary actions do not have to be taken so soon." With that, the two walked away.

"Right, Bosses." They muttered and turned to me. "Well then. Let's see...so many possibilities." Another one walked up, decked out in clothes covered in tassels and face covered in make up.

"Oh, hunty. This should be fun." The new one said, then looked to the man woman person. "She looks like..." She rattled off on a bunch of gibberish. "Good luck, Willam. And you, New kid, listen real well to what she tells you. Willam has this down to an art."

"I see what you mean Saren. Thanks!" She smiled and tipped my head from side to side. "And she is exactly right. So let's get started shall we, then I will explain the rules to you." She pulled on my arm and yanked me to another chair.

She pushed me back and then turned arpund, muttering about where her brush bag went.

"Here it is!" She said triumphantly and got back up. She set it down and began to work on me. I looked at my self in the mirror when she finished and could help but just stare and whisper a single word to myself.

"Damn." I was not gonna lie. I looked good. For a female.

"Now, a wig and some fingernails and you are all set. Then we will go over the rules and teach you some basic moves." The wig and nails were done sooner than I wanted them done and I just stared at myself.

"Now, listen close and follow me to the changing rooms. I would have you change out here, but there is so much stuff I would get mixed up." She weaved through the mess of smoke and perfume, while I padded along after her.

She lead me to a room and then ordered me to sit down while she collected my clothes. As she did that, she began to tell me the rules.

"You will get no less than a thousand dollars a night, and you do what ever you must to meet that. You will go with whoever wants you for the night and pays well for it. You will serve if you are not up on stage dancing. You are to respect the bosses wishes at all times, and you will look others in the eye. Oh! You also will do whatever it is these people pay for. No exceptions. Am I clear?" She pulled her head out to look at me.

"Crystal." I answers and watched as she pulled several clothes out, then put them back. Finally, she pulled out two dresses. One was a very short maid's dress, with the little head frill and a pair of tights. The other was more of a mini pencil skirt and a tube top with a pair of high heels and what appeared to be a collar, leash, and a headband with cat ears.

"These should do." She decided, walking over to me. "Put this one on." She shoved the black skirt outfit at me, keeping the dress. I stripped, then pulled it up to sit on my lower hips, making my v-line very visible.

William whistled and then let her eyes travel down my body. "I know exactly what you should wear under that." She said and once again began to rummage. Not too long after, she shot something black at me. I snatched it and looked at it. It looked like a thong, but with a thicker fabric strip in the back.

I gave her a look and she looked right back at me. "Put it on, then finish getting the clothes on. I have to go on soon, so I need to teach you all I can." With that, she turned and began to hang up clothes that had fallen.

I did as instructed. Let's be clear on one fact right now. Those underwear, or what ever they were, were extremely uncomfortable. I pulled on the shirt, careful not to move my wig or smear my make up, and then out on the rest of the costume, snatching the tights from the other costume. They were black up to about mid thigh, then they went clear.

I finished and stood there with my arms out, looking at William. I cleared my throat and she looked over at me.

"Fuck, Girl. You are going to get a lot of money in that. Your makeup is beat. And those tights are a nice addition. Now, time for some moves. Practice them before you go on stage, and when you do, make it a big show. Now we have to hurry. I still have my wig to put on. And when you go to serve, follow my lead." She instructed.

I nodded, as I thought to myself. Her voice at first, deep and masculine, seemed strange at first, bit, by now, it would be weird to here her say anything with a different voice.

She walked to a pole and looked at me to make sure I was watching, then she swung her hips and dropped to the floor, then pulled herself back up, making a circle. I raised an eyebrow. Damn. I could barely walk in these heels, let alone do that. She walked over and tugged at the top of the boots, which rested at about my knees.

"Here is another you should be able to do in these. I'll demonstrate on this bench, but on stage, you would sit on the edge of the stance with your feet in one of the tables. Highest paying if you can." She sat down and angled her feet so they were way out to the side, and her knees were together. She ran her hand down her thighs, her fingers between her legs. When she got to her knees, she a lowly pulled them apart, then stood up and turned. "At this point, you would then walk back up on stage. Don't forget a hip wiggle. If someone hands you money, make a show of putting it in your clothes, because those are your safe keeping places. And the customers, they like shows." She smiled at me then turned to leave, but she stopped suddenly and turned back to look at me.

"You need a name!" She gasped.

"I have a name." I growled, not comprehending.

"No. You have a dude's name. Not a stage name." She tapped her chin. "Lulu!" She called out, finger in the air.

"How about this. My name is Lulu, but you can call me kitten. Daddy." I looked shyly away, then looked back at William.

"You have got this in the bag, Lulu." She smiled. "Now practice those. I have to go finish getting ready." With that, she was gone.

~°~  
Ta-da. Lulu is here. Anyway. Help with characters? I'm out of ideas.

For those of you wondering, the blonde boss is based off of Dominic Sherwood(he is HOT. He is the guy in Taylor swift's song style.)

Oh, and stay sexy  
-Scömìche❤ 


	13. Thirteen

Thankfully, before I was called on stage, I got those down, and even managed to learn a third one.

The third was definitely complicated. But I got it, eventually, and even added a little Mitchie Flavor.

"Well, well, well, are these women just beautiful?" It was the Latino man. He must have been speaking into a microphone. "You folks are lucky. Tonight, he have a new dancer." He announced. The Drag Queens around me smiled and gestured me towards the stage. "Come on out, Sweetheart." He called and I emerged onto the bright stage, forcing myself not to squint.

Someone in the room whistled, and others cat called, calling me the same names I had been calling myself for months. The same names Drake had called me. I took it all in stride, trying to block them out as I sashayed up to the Latino.

I blinked at me and smiled shyly. "You called, daddy?" I asked, biting my lip.

"Why don't you tell everyone your name, Kitty." He said, grunting at my nickname for him, tugging gently at my collar.

"Of course. Name's Lulu, you can call me what ever you like." I looked to a rather drunk man closer to the stage and winked.

He laughed and someone from the back yelled at him. "Ciro! Let the whores dance again. We don't pay to hear you. We pay to hear them." The sexual meaning was clear. I looked down, playing it off as Shy, but I did it to hide my gritted teeth. Sick.

He agreed and sent me back, slapping my ass as I did so. "You are very right, sir. So, I will shut up, and let the girls take over." Then, he walked to the same door where we all were and looked at me.

"You better earn me good money. Because trust me, the consequences are not something you want to ever experience." He murmured, then waved to the line of drag queens I was slipping through to get out on stage. There were seven of us, including me, Willam, and Saren. We all walked in stage and each claimed one of the poles. All except one of them, who walked straight to the edge of the stage and then down to the floor, where a man was waving money in the air. He grabbed at her and she let his hands slide over her skin, and even into her bottoms, stuffing cash in. She danced on his lap, rubbing herself against his crotch.

I looked away and did as the others around me did, ranging around the pole. As I dropped into a crouch, I felt a hand slide money into my pants. I resisted the urge to shutter. It was like Drake. Hands all over with no consent. But instead, I swing my hips up and swung around the pole to look at the man.

"Well hello there, darling." I mouthed to him and then dropped to my hands and knees, waving my ass, as I smiled as him.

He handed me another bill and I took it before standing up. With it still in hand, I slid my hands down my body and into the underwear, giving a little moan for show as I rested the money there.

I removed my hands and fluttered my eyelashes, before going back to the pole.

One time, Willam came up to me and pulled me close. "Play along Lulu." She whispered and ran her hands down my scarred back to cup my ass, a few of her fingers slipping into the space between my legs, the area open due to a slit in it. I grinded against her and we both moaned. Again, more money. This time though, I did something I didn't even know I could. I saw the money and bent down, snatching it gently with my teeth, then I moved back to Willam. Starting at the base of her leg, I ran it up, my other hand sliding up the smooth skin on her legs. I heard a hiss of pleasure and smiled. Standing up, I pulled the money from my mouth, reached down, rubbed it against her, then stuck in in her pants.

Finally, we were allowed off stage and she pulled me back to the earlier room to change into my made outfit. She tossed asode the frill. "Keep the ears, collar, and leash." She advised, then helped me collect all of the bills.

I smiled at her and counted up. Two thousand and some. She raised an eyebrow. "Damn girl. And the night ain't even half over. Now hurry and change. You have to go give this Money to the Boss."

As I pulled the dress on, I looked at her. "Which boss?"

She chuckled. "Right. You wouldn't know. Take it to Dom." He must be the blonde one. At last, I was dressed and went to go do as told.

I found Dom and walked up. "Hey, boss?" I asked demurely.

"Ah. It's the kitten!" He said and then tipped up my head to look at him. "What do you need?"

"Willam said to give you this." I handed him the money, still in the black boots.

"Well done! You definitely did very well. Now, go wait on our valued customers." He waved me away and I went to do just that, finding Willam.

"Grab a tray, sweet cheeks." She suggested. "Let's tale and order first actually. Then we will get a tray for you." She walked over to a table of men, who seemed to have just gotten here. She looked to my and then stepped to the side. The meaning was clear. 'You take this.'

I smiled at them and walked to the table, leaning down to rest my arms on it as I got ready to write their order. "What can I get for you, Boys?" I asked sweetly, giggling as one winked at me.

The last one to place his order had been staring at my ass in the air the whole time I had been taking their ordered. I wasn't really surprised by his answer, but I still had to fight a wave of nausea.

"Why can I get for you, Sir? We have all sorts of beverages." I smiled sweetly.

"I want that add of your wrapped around my cock." I simply laughed.

"Maybe later, Cowboy." I leaned in and kissed his cheek before drawing back. "You sure you don't want anything else?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I want to be completely sober when I slam you around." He growled.

Knowing that I still had a job to do, I simply looked away, and informed them I would be back in a moment.

I got to the bar and placed the orders, then asked for a beer for one of the gentlemen, lying and telling the Barista that he had no clue was he wanted. She happily gave me a free shot for him and I smiled.

Willam watched me all the while, chuckling. As I went to go hand out the drinks, I stopped long enough to scribble a note for the man.

"Here we are." I chirped and gave them their drinks. As I set the shot down in front of the last man, I felt him grab my leg.

"Is something wrong sir?" I asked as I turned back to face him.

"I didn't order anything, slut. Don't fucking screw up the orders." His grip tightened and I squirmed momentarily.

"Oh, well, that is definitely my bad. Let me make it up to you." I leaned in and kissed him, slipping the paper In the edge of his jeans, before drawing back and taking the shot glass with me. "It won't happen again." I apologized waggling my hips.

~°~  
Holy mother! Over 1k reads? Y'all are so amazing! Thank you all so much. I really do hope you like the book.

Oh, and stay sexy  
-Scomiche❤ 


	14. Fourteen

My shift ended and I headed back towards the changing took when a pair of hands gripped my hips and pulled me backwards.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the little tease." I knew that voice. It was the man from earlier. I simply smiled and pulled out of his grip, paying no attention.

"That is one thing to call me." I said to him and continued on my way. My only mistake was leaving the leash in the back. He grabbed it and held it, pulling in it slightly.

"I don't remember saying you could walk away." He growled.

"I don't remember you paying for my time." I shot back and turned to face him.

"So you want money so someone would take your horny ass home?" He tugged on the collar.

"That's the rule. You want the body, you got to pay." I said, blinking him.

"So how much to slam you?" He gave a vicious tank to the black leash, causing me to stumble into his arms. "Better be a good price."

"Depends on how well you perform." I ran hands up his chest and around his shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze.

"How about I show you, you damn teasing slut?"

I faked a smile at him. Little did I realize that he would only be the first of many. Every night. A different man. Different room. Same outfits.

Almost eight months. Then they got sick of me, and once again, I was back with Alex, still wearing my stage clothes. The next man was horrible. He was a walking manifestation of a ashtray. His voice was so thick and gravelly, it was hard to understand him.

His favorite thing to say was "Do you not understand the English language?" I hated that man. Thankfully, I was for nothing more than show. Nothing more than a lap trinket or a servant.

This also meant that unless I was answering him, I was to make not even a sound in his presence.

"Dearie." He called. That is was he told me my name was. I do not know why, only that he did and questioning got me hurt.

I approached, head ducked, hands behind me.

"Yes, master?" I asked. Next thing I knew, I was hit across the face and sent to to ground. I didn't get up, just laid there, hand on my cheek, hoping to hide the tears.

His boot connected with my hip, kicking me harshly into my back. I kept my eyes averted, trying my hard to stifle my cried as he kicked me a few more times, right in the ribs. Soon, there was a crack, and it hurt to breath, hurt to move, but I still held my tongue. His last kick was aimed at my head and made my head throb painfully and ears ring.

"I didn't tell you to speak." He snarled and moved off. "Now get up and get me a damn sandwich." He flipped down on his chair and lit a cigarette.

Painfully, I managed to get to my feet, holding my left side, trying to take as small breaths as I could. The pain was unbearable. But he wouldn't care. Not even a little bit. In fact, I would dig myself a deeper hole by saying something.

Suffering through, I did my best to stay silent as I reached for things above my head, almost falling to the ground in pain, multiple times.

At last, after almost three times longer than normal, I got him His sandwich and delivered it to him, doing my best to keep my limp imperceptible.

"Dearie." He said again in that sickly sweet voice. This time I stayed silent as he continued on with his words. "Buddies of mine are coming over. So how about to go and make yourself presentable for once? I don't want to have introduce such an ugly whore to respectable men."

What made me hate this man so much was that his abuse was all physical. Until it wasn't, and then he voiced the thoughts in my head. His verbal abuse was worse than the physical.

I simply turned and moved away to the closest space he provided me. I pulled on the outfit reserved for company. Thankfully, it was just companionship he was looking for, so the clothes covered. The outfit I had on currently was a pair of jeans, with a long sleeved, black turtle-neck that rested on my hips.

Finally done, I moved to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror.

A dark bruise was already spreading across my cheek, and I had a cut the other side of my head. I painstakingly lifted my shirt. I gasped at the sight. It was an ugly mess of blacks, blues, purples, and even yellow.

I dropped the hen and let it fall back to where it was before. No wonder it hurt so bad. It was ugly.

"They're here!" He snarled at me from the front room. "Get out here and open the damn door."

Same routine. Open the door, let them all pass through, head down, then walk in and kneel beside him, unless instructed to do other wise. Then, they would have me order them food and set up their table for card playing, pouring them their alcohol. Through it all, they always progressively more handsy. All except my owner. He only got more abusive.

I came to the door as fast as I could, hiding my pain under a mask nearly a year of horrors had forged.

I waited just until the first reached to knock before I opened the door, moving out of the way.

"Damn." One said, then called out louder. "This little servant of yours is so obedient! You scored." I made not even a sound to show that I heard, just kept looking at my feet.

"Yes. I know. It is taking quite well. Only had it, what, a month?" The man called back. At last, the last man entered and I set about the other duties. Thankfully, he seemed content to leave me kneeling on the floor until it was time for my set up the rest of night.

Four hours passed. I had been knocked around constantly for almost an hour now.

They were in the middle of a round of cards when one of the men, a little more sober than his buddies, spokes up.

"Yeah, Ash." How fitting. The ashtray is named Ash. "Do you ever show the thing a good time? I heard you were pleasing." I said a little more sober. He was still wasted.

"Ha! No way am I going to fuck it. I got it as a cast out from a Stripper club. Thing had been dressing as a female for months." Ash laughed as though the though of sleeping with me was the funniest thing he had ever heard.

"Well, could I? I heard men are so fun to fuck, and Miriah has been extremely displeasing as of late."

"Go ahead." He waved a hand, not even batting an eye. "Be as rough as you please. He is simply there to please you. That is all he is good for. Oh, the Stripper Club said he was good with his mouth." He advised. I snapped up to stare at Ash. How on earth did this fucking drunkard remember that? Thankfully I couldn't dwell to long on that before the other man stood and walked over, ordering me to the bedroom, grabbing my arm and marching me when my steps were too slow for him.

"Get in there, you fucktoy." He snarled, pushing my into the room, then slamming me against the wall. My side was in agony and I was whimpering pathetically.

"Get ready for the night of your life."

~°~  
Yah! Update! More smut next chapter probably.

Okay. All readers. Please, tell me. Would you like a second book? If so, something big will have to happen.

Oh, and stay sexy.  
-Scomiche❤ 


	15. Fifteen

I bit my tongue as he threw me into another wall, pressing against my body as he sucked my neck.

The pain was almost blinding. I tried to fight the tears, but they fell anyway. Though I prayed they would, my tears didn't go unnoticed.

"What is wrong, bay-be?" He said, detatching from where he had been marking my neck. "I ain't gonna hurt you. Just show you a good time. So wipe them tears. We don't need that here." I tried to not breath in the rank scent of beer on his breath.

I managed to stop the tears, but I felt light headed. The pain. It was immense, more than anything ever before. I was struggling.

The moment he steped back, I crumpled to the floor, unable to stand.

The man looked down at me, raising an eyebrow. He muttered something, before bending down and picking me up.

He walked over to the bed and laid me down, surprisingly gentle. Then he moved on top of me and grabbed the hem of my shirt, lifting it up to slide a hand under. His hand, cold, ran up my side.

Then he pulled the shirt up and over my head. But he made no other move, just stared at the bruises. I didn't dare risk a look. I just kept my eyes closed.

"He really did a number on you, didn't he?" He whispered and I opened my eyes in shock. He sounded so sober. As I looked at him, he gave me one small smile.

He sat back a little and then explained. "There have been reports of abuse at this house and so I have been trying to prove it. You have helped be do just that. May I take pictures? I can get you out of here. Rescue you from this."

I sat up and shook my head. Maybe he didn't know the full extent of my situation, but pictures was the worst thing that could happen. "No. No pictures." I also could take care of my self. I knew how stupid that reasoning was, but I in to much pain to think clearly. I also think that I wasn't getting enough oxygen to my head because of the way I had to breath.

"He won't know." The man tried to persuade. "No one will ever know it is you. And you will be free."

"There are things about this situation you don't know. Things that will end up with me dead." I whimpered. But despite this, he insisted.

"I promise you. Your face will be out of it." He seemed to be ignorant to the fact that they could identify people by tattoos. If anyone in the trade found out, I would be dead.

That's when I did the only thing I could.

"Help! He's a Cop! Help! He is trying to throw you in jail!" I screeched, then averted my eyes. I risked another thrashing, but it was better than me ending up dead.

There was the sound of someone stomping down the hallway. The door burst open and the man a top me skittered back from the man, who was red in the face, his eyes glittering. I closed my eyes and listened to their shouting and then the sound of the man being pulled, screaming, from the room, and eventually, it sounded like, from the house. After a few minutes, Ifinally dared to move.

I made a beeline for the window and looked out. There was Ash and his goons, kicking in the man. Then, Ash produced a gun and cocked it, pointing it squarely at the man's face. Before I could react in anyway, he pulled the trigger and I was deafened by the sound of the gun shot.

I stumbled back to the bed, seeing the look on the man's face as he stated down the barrel of that gun, seeing the malicious smile on Ash's face, imprinted on my eyelids.

I was the reason that man was dead. I caused his death. Sure, I wasn't the one that pulled the trigger, but I called for help. I was the one that told. I might as well have just pulled that trigger.

Way to go, you fucking Cunt. There is was again, that nagging voice. You just caused someone's death, you fucking whore. God. You are so useless. All your good for is getting someone in trouble. Your complaining got a man killed. How's it feel to have blood on your hands, you slutty bitch?

I covered my ears, even though I knew that it would help with the voice. No. I wasn't getting rid of it.

"Dearie." Ash said and I immediately snapped my head in his direction, eyes down. "Very good." I froze. He gave praise. Why? I felt like something bad was about to happen.

He walked forward and looked at the bruises on my side, pressing on one area. I hissed involuntarily.

"Poor baby." He mocked, but never laid another hand on me. "You are so much trouble. I'll get in touch with Alex and tell him to find me a good paying contact." He ground out, then left, slamming the door.

~°~  
Here is the next update.

Tell me honestly, do you want me to just write about all of his owners in one single(probably long) chapter, or write a chapter or two with each of the owners?

Sorry this chapter is so short. This had an actually plot, then turned into a juicy filler.

Next chapter, to give you guys time to answer, will be different.

Oh, and stay sexy.  
-Scomiche❤ 


	16. Sixteen

Kirstie's P.O.V  
A month. Mitch had been gone a month and there was still no sign of him. I had looked everywhere. I even prayed with Avi's friend Kevin. But he was no where.

"Where the hell is he!?" I had screeched one time, throwing the closest throwable item, a stick Avi had been playing with, then set down, across the room.

Immediately, Avi stood and wrapped his arms around me, holding me close and I broke down.

"Why did this happen to Mitch? Why did he have to get kidnapped?" I grabbed fistfuls of Avi's purple shirt with a green Yoshi on the front, my head on his chest. He hugged me close and let me cry, kissing the top of my head.

"I don't know, beautiful, but we will find him, no matter how long it takes." He promised.

The days after turned to weeks, then months.

Nine months had passed and I sat at home, staring at the box I had wrapped for him. He was eighteen today. Was he even alive to celebrate? Did he even know?

I didn't leave my room. I didn't eat, didn't speak to anyone other than to an imagined Mitch. I saw him, in my mind's eye, sitting there, leaning back in my desk chair, complaining about how there were no cute boys, or that the cute ones were straight, or not his type, or complete and total Asshats.

"Happy birthday to you, Mitch, wherever you are. Know that I will never give up on you, not until I know what happened to you." I whispered as I fell asleep.

Two more months passed, and the news blew up.

"Local Arlington Officer, Joe Widla, has been found dead, after a reported beating and shooting. There was footage of this caught, though the faces are unclear."

They played the footage. They weren't lying when they said the faces would be hard to see, but it seemed that, instead of the murder, the camera was focused on a house. In one of the windows, a boy appeared, the right side of him covered in what appeared to be bruises. His hair was a long mess, two different colors. Something about that boy looked familiar, but I couldn't figure it out. Couldn't put my finger on why, but he did. I didn't know anyone with hair that was half blond, half dark brown. Immediately, all eyes must have gone to the fight, if they weren't already, at that moment because there was the sound of a gunshot. When I looked up next, the boy's was moving stiffly from the window.

Why did he appear so familiar? What was it about him? Was I the only one that noticed the boy?

"Police have been sent to the near by house, where reports of abuse have been. As seen in the video, a boy appears to be in that house. The police will try to remove him from that situation." The lady smiled, as though she were talking about nothing more than a boy was stuck in a tree, not a possibly dangerous situations.

"No one knows who this boy is, nor how he knows the man in that house, but we will be returning him to who ever he belongs to the moment we get him out of there and treat him for his wounds." It was an older man. His hair was falling out and he was willowy. "He may have information as to who the killer is."

With that, the news story changed.

I turned off the TV. I hoped they got him home. I hoped that there was a family there to welcome him, just like I would be for Mitch. I would not give up on him. Even at the cost of my relationships with everyone I knew. I would not forget Mitch. No matter what.

The next morning, I turned on the news, just to see if something had updated. They ran through everything, then the story I have been looking for showed up.

All information was the same, but this time, it was the chief, telling us that, when they stormed the house, there was only one man, passed out in a chair. "The boy is no where to be found, and the man has been brought in for questioning." He reported. "We will keep looking for this boy." With that, I snapped of the TV.

Who knows where that boy was. Who knew how much pain his family was in because the police couldn't save the boy.


	17. Seventeen

Mitch's P.O.V (Smutish)  
That night, after Ash had sobered up, I was returned to Alex. He smiled at me. "I have just the place for you." He chirped, clapping his hands together.

I just kept my head down. I was in so much pain that nothing else really got to me.

"You will like these people. A nice couple."

"Somehow, I don't believe you." I spat back. The moment the words left my mouth, I readied myself, but nothing happened. He didn't lay a hand on me. Instead he spoke over me, acting like I wasn't even there, like I hadn't just spoken.

"There you are Hoying. Been missing you." I could here the implied thought in that word.

"Sorry, forget to tell you that I found a job at a local bar." Scott. I knew that voice. "But I plan on still working for you."

Why? He had a chance out. Why didn't he take it? Did he like the suffering we went through? None of these swirling questions were uttered out loud.

"Good. I would had to lose such a valuable asset." There was something in the word Asset that implied something. Something definitely sexual.

"It's back again?" The topic of conversation changed dramatically, focusing now on me.

"Yeah. Caused problems with the law. I was going to punish him, but them Wilford contacted me and told me he and his wife want this slut."

"Ain't they already got those siblings? The ones I collected like six months ago?" Scott asked. "And aren't they that couple Ben was talking about? The Sadists*?"

"Yep. He is offering a high sum for this boy, but won't take it until it is in mint condition."

"What happened? Besides the obvious bruise?" Scott inquired and Alex ordered me to show him the cut on the other side of my head, then lift the shabby shirt.

"Damn. Think he has a snapped rib? That is a vicious mess. Damn." He whistled again, shaking his head.

"Damn it. Hadn't even thought of that. Shit. I'll talk to them and try to bargain."

"His hair is a fucking mess. I mean, look at it." Scott hissed.

"Yeah. I know. Take him to Nicole. She'll fix up his hair."

I felt Scott grab my arm. "Get moving." Together, we once again began the same march to the same room that I have gone to, everything I am bought by someone else.

She fixed me up, re-bleaching my hair and cutting it the same way it had been when we bleached it the first time, leaving it to my jaw this time.

When Scott came to get me, he smiled at Nicole, then we walked away. The moment her door shut he stopped and made me look at him. "I will get you out of here. I will save you." He promised.

I looked at him. I knew he was probably my only shot, but like I would believe him. "No thanks. I can take care of myself. Always have." I growled.

He scoffed and shook his head. "Fine, boy, but you will regret that decision." He began to sulk, drawing himself up, though his eyes became devoid of emotions. The moment we got to Alex, he stormed away, muttering to himself.

"Good news! They will get you tomorrow. Which means I can have the night with you." He smiled, but everything about it was frigid.

He he wasted no time ripping the shirt I wore up over my head and then pushing me back until my ass touched the table. Then he pushed me down, laying my back flat on the cold metal, my back arching up, away from the freezing table top. He stood between my legs.

He forced my back down, leaning forward across my chest, the pain flaring up, forcing to choke back a sob. It hurt so bad. So, so bad. His mouth met my neck and sucked harshly, leaving a mark for sure, for all to see.

"Tonight, you are my bitch." He snarled and stepped back, pulling me up. "Take my cock, whore." He snarled, forcing me to kneel in front of him. I blinked away the tears that threatened to fall and reached up, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down, followed by his boxers. Keeping my eyes firmly away from Alex's, I did as he ordered. But the rest, that was him. He grabbed my hair and forced my head still as he drilled into it.

Thankfully, it was all over soon. But he forced me to take it, then swallow. I had never before felt so disgusted. In the past, the people never wanted me to swallow. It was new and disgusting. I fought a shiver of disgust.

I looked up at Alex, who was covered in a layer of sweat and he was panting. He let go of my hair and ordered me to stay put. He then pulled up his lower clothes and made himself presentable. He then held a hand out. "Come now." He said, His voice hard

Knowing better than to argue, I did as told, and took his hand, getting to my feet.

He took me through the house, into a large bedroom. He, once again pulled down his pants, but this time, his shirt followed. He bent down and yanked my pants off my skinny frame. His hand ran over my prominent ribs before commanding me to get on the bed.

I did, and painstakingly laid myself down, puffing out short, shallow breaths. He mounted me, looking down at my naked form with a starving man's hunger. He positioned himself, then shoved my face into the pillows as he slammed in with no warning , leaving me to scream and writhe uselessly.

The rest of the night was a blur of pain and little pleasure, of moans and screams. At last, we both fell asleep. Though mine was more as though I had passed out, it hurt so bad.

In the morning, I opened my eyes to find my back pressed against Alex's stomach, his arm thrown over me. I felt disgusting. I felt used.

On top of that all, there was that voice again, calling me all manner of awful names, telling me the same things it had told me day after day, month after month. It was to the point where the voice could be silent, but I would still scream these things at myself. They were true, weren't they? I was worthless, these people made that clear. I was a slut. I slept with a different man every night for months, and allowed others to touch me in places no one wants a stranger to touch them. I was simply a fucktoy. A object there for others pleasure.

"Good morning." Alex whispered in my ear, hand tightening. I jumped, roused from my musings, and scared out of my wits by him. "You need to shower and get dressed. Scott brought by some new clothes." He sat up, releasing me.

He pointed me to the shower and I skittered away, into the bathroom. I didn't dare risk a look, didn't want to see the marks left on my skin.

I turned the water on, letting it get hot, before stepping in and washing myself off, scrubbing vigorously, even when it hurt. I wanted to burn my skin. I felt disgusting.

That is because you are. You are also something else. Ugly. Very, very ugly. I mean, look at you. You have to see a lady to do your make up so people will actually turn your way.

Again, the voice didn't lie. I was ugly. I was black and blue, gaunt, scarred.

I didn't realize how hard I had been scrubbing my arm until I looked down and saw the blood.

"Damn it." I swore. I rinsed off quickly then slammed off the water and climbed out. I found a pile of clothes on the counter. Drying off, I pulled them on, staring at the mark on my arm I had caused. It was an ugly mark, thick and deep, spanning my whole forearm.

"Let's go." Alex opened the door and I walked out, following him to the front of the house, where a couple stood.

The man was tall. About as tall as Scott. His hair was a flame ginger color and was all over his arms and face. Beside him was a smaller woman with blonde hair. She had a kind smile on her face and walked forward, holding a hand out. That kind smile never faltered as she gripped the spot on my arm I had scrubbed raw and dug her nails in.

"Hello, Three."

~°~  
*A Sadist is someone who enjoys, or is turned on by, causing others pain.

One and Two are actually my friend's characters she let me use from her book School Days. Love ya, Queen-Mitchie. So please do not steal. (They will be in the next chapter.)

Holy mother people! 1.56k?! You readers are awesome! I love you all so much!  
Oh, and stay sexy,  
-Scomiche❤ 


	18. Eighteen

Warning: Abuse. Blood/gore  
The woman smiled benevolently at me, nails still dug into my arm, but her eyes were lustful, dark.

Her husband walked behind her and kissed behind her head, murmuring something to her. She released me and turned to Alex, handing him a large wad of cash.

"That should suffice for him. We agreed on the same amount we paid for each sibling." The man, Wilford or something, said, hugging his wife.

"Take it." He ordered. "Please." At this, they both smiled.

"Come now, dearie." The woman grabbed me, thankfully, this time it was my other arm.

They pulled me to a car and pulled out jagged edged handcuffs, which they clamped on my wrists, closing them tight enough they pierced my skin and made me bleed. I cried out, then cut myself off. The man reached over and pressed them another click tighter.

Both laughed at my scream of pain this elicited. The woman climbed into the driver seat as her husband climbed in the back with me.

I tried to fight my cry of pain every time we bounced. My cheek were stained with tears and my pants were soaked with the blood that leaked out of the puncture wounds.

I managed to drift off, leaning my head against the window, thought I don't know how. The next thing I was aware of was the click of the door I leaned against. Then falling. I slammed into the ground and opened my eyes. My cheek, which had landed on the sharp gravel ground, was all scratched up. It didn't help that I had fallen on my bruises side. My head swam as I tried to reorient myself after slamming my head into the asphalt.

Struggling to breath and not cry, I laid there until the man roughly picked me up. "Get walking." He growled.

Gone was the pleasantries. No. I could see the monsters hidden under the human mask. Their faces were contorted into even scarier demons than Drake's.

Into a house, a pleasant one, with a warm feeling leaking out of everything, then it all disappeared. Down a dank stairway, they unlocked my cuffs, then shoved me to the floor of a cold cellar with faint light coming from somewhere. The door slammed shut and I heard the sound of metal scraping on metal, a lock.

I managed to get up, my hands sticky with blood that still leaked from my now open wounds. As I sat there, I heard rustling and looked up, eyes wide, heart beginning to pound in my ears.

I couldn't see anything but a dark shape in the corner, moving.

I had watched so many horror movies, and I knew that calling out ended with you dead, but I did it anyway.

"Hello?" My voice cracked. Goddamnit. I was Sevent- I stopped that train of thought. I had turned Eighteen. I knew that I had been away from my home for months, but the realization that I had missed my birthday hit me hard. A small, strained voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Hi..." The voice was so young. So childlike. "Who are you?" The form moved closer. That is when I realized it was two people in the corner, and one was coming towards me, scooting.

"I'm Mitch." I answered. "Who are you?"

"Mitch, huh? Not for long." A older, scratchier voice interrupted and the second form followed the first.

I managed to get a glimpse of the first one's face. She was no older than fourteen, with choppy short brown hair and large, dark eyes, one swollen shut. Her lip had a large cut in it, and I noticed several other wounds all over her pale skin.

I also saw the other kid. His skin was a darker shade and he had pale eyes with messy hair.

"Who are you?" I asked again.

"One and Two." The boy answered, pointing at himself then the girl.

"But our parents named us Tuesday and Wednesday." The girl spoke up, giving me a pained smile.

I puzzled over it, about to say something, when the sound of footsteps coming down the stair richocetted around the room. The two skittered back to their corner and I moved away from the door, hiding in my own corner.

The door opened and I ducked my head. Then the man spoke.

"Get over here, you stupid bitches." I moved closer, after seeing the two kids move forward. In the light, both looked even more haggard. That is when I noticed that both kids were no more than fifteen.

"Oh, honey! He hasn't had his initiation yet!" The wife chirped.

"You are right Hollie." He smiled. I saw his hand reach out to me and flinched. His hand gripped me right by the back of my neck, digging in painfully. He pulled me to my feet and marched me into another room. It was almost unbearably hot in there. They shoved me against one of the walls and chained my arms above my head, pulling a cloth over my eyes.

"One! Two!" the woman snapped. "Get your asses in here! Two. You will be the one to initiate him."

Initiate him? I furrowed my brows, unaware of anything around me.

"Ethan, my beloved, would you bare his back?" The man's big hands grabbed my collar and cut it open, leaving my scarred back exposed.

"Where do you want it, ma'am?" Wednesday spoke. I had decided, when they told me their real names, that that is what I would call them. They were Tuesd-

The thoughts were cut short as something was pressed into my shoulder blade, reaching onto my arm. I screamed, my own voice harsh on my ear. I could smell burning flesh and my skin burned. I writhed against my restraints, trying to find relief. I could find none, screaming and sobbing.

Around that pain, which was worse than a thousand knives, I felt something else. They cut open my back, in the distinct shape of a three*. I felt the blood pouring down my back. I bit my lip almost clear through, trying to stifle my cries. Around it all, I heard the gleeful laughter of Ethan and Hollie, and the underlying cries of Tuesday and Wednesday.

Finally, they opened the restraints on my arms and I fell to the ground, curling in a ball as one of them leaned close and whispered in my ear, still chuckling.

"Welcome to hell, Three."

~°~  
The three was a series of   
_  
/  
\  
-  
(only more angled and the ends are longer)

These people with be here for three chapters. If you have any ideas for his next owners let me know. Oh! Starting now, I will list How long he has been gone.

11 months-12 months.

Oh, and stay sexy.  
-Scomiche❤ 


	19. Nineteen

Warning: Abuse, blood/gore(will also apply to the next chapter)  
I was aware of little other than pain and a soft voice whispering to me.

"There is someone looking for you. Someone who loves you very much. You will get out of this, dead or alive. Please, don't die. You have to live for that person who is looking for you."

Somewhere along the way, I managed to opened my eyes and found myself laying face down, a cool cloth pressing to my right shoulder as another cloth was held down on my left hip, over the cut.

I looked over at these two and couldn't help but smile faintly.

Wednesday must've seen my open eyes because she began to cry and blubber, asking for forgiveness.

Somehow, I managed to lift my self up, clenching my eyes tight in pain, then pulled the much smaller girl into a hug.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Wednesday." I whispered to her, gritting my teeth in pain. My shoulder felt like it was on fire. I didn't dare look at my shoulder. Didn't dare look to see what happened to me.

Her small hands rested on my chest, which I just realized was bare, but I didn't move until she shifted back. I let her go and nodded to Tuesday. He was so much younger than I. I couldn't help but hug him. He didn't fight it, just grabbed my arm. I let him go and scooted back. "Thank you both so much."

~*~  
(Six months later)  
I had endured so many things. My skin was a mess of cuts and scars. I was even missing part of the upper part of my right ear.

Tuesday and Wednesday faired no better. Wednesday had a large bald patch on her head, with scabs covering the skin, where Hollie had wrenched her hair in another one of their "games".

Tuesday was a mess, his hair matted in blood from a cut that stretches from the middle of his forehead, ran along his hairline, and stopped where his ear met his jaw. His arm was bandaged, still raw from the game they played a week ago. Thankfully, Wednesday had been exempt from this one. They took a lighter, those large ones with the long nozzles, then held it to our skin, drawing out designs even.

I hated it here so bad. Every time they played a "game", it ended with them both very aroused.

They never made a sexual move on any of us, thank god, just went upstairs to fuck, then wash off the blood and sweat.

I held the much smaller girl as she shivered, her skin clammy, her fair skin paler than normal.

Tuesday worried endlessly, but he couldn't sit still, his legs were still sore from his whipping.

As I held her, I heard the all to familiar sound of them coming down the stairs, chattering. I had long since compared it to a pair of monkeys because that is what is sounded like.

I stood up and managed to get Wednesday to her feet, still holding her by the waist. In the past few months, I had heard that she was thirteen, and that he brother was fifteen. Neither said anything about their old lives, but sometimes, when Tuesday was asleep, he would mutter things about Thursday.

The door unlocked and burst open. I could tell, even from here, that they were drunk. I could smell It and see it in the way they walked forward.

"Your turn, Two." They chattered. It was scary. These people made Drake seem like a day dream. They grabbed her arms, in sloppy unison. Hollie chained her to the wall, while Ethan pulled out a large hunting knife from his side. How the hell had I not seen that?

He pressed it to her cheek, then slid it along her cheekbones, talking to each other about how ugly she was. Her skin split like it was nothing and I could do nothing but try to block out her cries and screams.

Ten minutes this went on, her small body convulsing. She was sick, I knew it and her brother knew it. Finally, he pulled the blade away and wiped off the blood, admiring it.

"Such a beautiful blade." He said. "Don't you think Hollie?"

"Yes I do, my dear. I want to see it stained in their blood." She pointed to the two of us and Ethan looked at us over his shoulder.

"I love the way you think, Hollie, beloved."

He ordered us to our own set of restraints and got us all chained up. Tuesday was watching his sister, who's eyes were glazed. Her head was lolling to the side, almost as though it were too heavy for her to lift.

My attention was so riveted on the girl that I didn't realized I was Ethan's target until his knife was cutting my leg. Hip to knee.

He laughed as I swore and struggled, tears falling. Then he drew back and his eyes flicked to my wrists. He reached up and rested that blade there, horizontal. Then, he cut down and across, leaving a deep cut. Three more on that wrist, then he focused on my other wrist, doing the same thing to it. I felt the blood sliding down my arms, the cuts stinging. I closed my eyes and he left me alone and moved to Tuesday.

"I heard you promise you would protect your sister." Hollie hissed, and Tuesday cried out, confirming that his skin was cut. They cut him a few more times before they stopped. I dared opened my eyes. Hollie was staring lustfully at Ethan, when he asked her the same question, just worded differently.

"Do you not agree that this blade is darling, just like you?" He murmured.

"It is, but I believe..." She trailed off and held her hand out for the knife, which he gave over with out a moment's hesitation. "I think it would be even more beautiful, sheathed in her body." With that, Hollie dove forward and slammed the knife into Wednesday's stomach. He let it go and began to laugh, before they uncuffed us, doing Wednesday's last, then walking away, back up the stairs, locking us away from the world again. Wednesday immediately crumpled to the ground.

"Wednesday!" Tuesday cried and looked at me. I stared back and forth between his large, tear filled eyes and the knife that rose and fell with the girl's rapid breath.

"Do you trust me?" I asked and scooted closer to where Tuesday held his sister's head in his lap, running his hand along her fevered forehead.

"Yes." He nodded.

That was all I needed. I gripped the knife and looked at Wednesday, who appeared dead, so pale and still. "I am so sorry for this." I whispered.

Then I pulled on the handle.

~°~  
-Hamlet- is going to kill me(she is the Queen-Mitchie I mentioned a couple chapters back.) Love you, babe. Anyway, made myself cry writing this. Wednesday is my baby. For those of you wondering, they come from a book where the main 7 people are the days of the week.

11-12 months, 18 months

Oh, and stay sexy  
-Scomiche❤ 


	20. Twenty

Warning: Blood/Gore, Death  
I pressed on the stab wound, using my shirt, which was slowly soaking through with blood, to try and staunch the bleeding.

Wednesday's breathing was fast and shallow, coming out in short gasps. The only thing that we could think of as to what was wrong was infection.

At last, I managed to stop the bleeding. Later, I fell asleep so exhausted, my body forced me to sleep.

Somewhere in the middle of my sleep I was awoken by something. I reached a hand up to rest by my face as a support to get hip when I felt it. Blood. Lots of it. That got me to shoot straight up.

Wednesday was even paler, and her chest barely moved. Tuesday seemed to scared to to a single thing. I pressed the cloth against her in an effort to try and stop this, but it was to no avail.

"Tuesday..." Wednesday gasped out, eyes flying open to look at her bother. "Thursday...always chose you..." Her words were little more than puffs of air as her eyelids fluttered.

"Wednesday! Please, please hold on!" He pleaded and I saw her give him the faintest of smiles.

"I love you... Broth..." The word never finished. Her eyes went dull and her narrow chest ceased to raise. I scooted closer to her head, pressing my fingers to her neck. Nothing.

He must have seen my face because he began to sob. I thought I knew a son of pain, but the cry that left his body was the most soul wrenching thing I had ever heard. He reached down and pulled her body into his lap, ignoring all of the wounds all over his body.

He hugged her closer and pressed his head into her neck, rocking back and forth.

"Please. Come back, Wednesday. Please, please." I sat there in shock, listening to him repeat that simple plea.

As he cried, down the stairs they came. Neither of us moved from our spots, me sitting in a pool of her blood, and Tuesday still clutching her chilling body.

They walked closer and looked at Wednesday, then began to laugh as though someone just told them the funniest thing they had ever heard.

Tuesday had always held his emotions in check, eyes carefully emotionless, only showing any emotion when his gaze fell on Wednesday. But that night, as he sat, covered in blood, holding the starved body against his own malnourished body, I saw a burning hate in those gray-green eyes.

As they walked towards where we sat, he gripped her shirt tighter, moving away from them. He did his best to keep hold of his sister, but with Hollie yanking viciously backwards on his hair, and Ethan pulling at Wednesday, both stronger than him, they managed to get her from him.

Hollie smiled and headed to the closet that was hidden deep in shadows. From it, she produced a large black something. It wasn't until she was closer that I realized she held a body bag.

She set it down, holding it open so that Ethan could lay the body inside. As they were zipping it up, I caught a glimpse of her face. It told in cuts and scars what she had endured, but her eyes were wide and blank, with a small, innocent smile.

At last, her face was hidden from my view. As they picked it up, still laughing, I moved over to Tuesday. The moment that door shut, he fell against me and we both cried. Over the last six months, I had grown to love these two. I cried with him, unable to offer solace. I had no idea where they would take her. No idea if he would ever see her again.

Thankfully, he just seemed to want someone to hold him, as I could not have formed any words of comfort. As I sat here, I cried, not only because I had grown to love her, but because she was so young. She told me, shortly after I got here, that she would be here for her fourteenth birthday. She died at fourteen.

Somewhere through the night, Tuesday stopped crying. His body was just too exhausted. He was unable to stay awake.

Despite the sleep that tugged at my mind, I kept watch over him.

I wanted him out of this Hell Hole and back with his family more than anything, even more than I wanted back with my own family.

Hours later, after he had fallen into a fitful sleep, they came back and ordered us to get up and head to the car. As I walked passed the threshold, I brushed my bleeding arm against it, leaving a streak of blood.

They pushed us into that same car, parked in a sheltered garage.

"More trouble than they're worth." The couple agreed.

Together, we went back to Alex, who was more than happy for take up. "I know the perfect house for you." He smiled.

We were there with Alex a week while he got everything ready. We were about to fly to Maine, where an older lady was willing to pay for us. Middle of Nowhere, Texas to Topsham, Maine. This would be the first time I had been out of the state.

In that week we spent with Alex, he had slept with me every night. Thought out loud I could not say 'No', every fibre of my being screamed it.

At last, the day came when he brought us to the airport. As we drove, he told us what we would tell anyone who asked about our cuts and bruises. We were getting away from our abusive father, heading to Maine to live with our grandma until I was back on my feet.

"Tell anyone what actually happened, and I will hunt down your families and kill them all." He snarled at us as he moved out of the car.

I held a hand out, like a brother would. "Come on. Better go now." I smiled at Tuesday. He took my hand and we walked into the busy airport together, keeping an eye out for possible threats. My leg still stung and walking hurt, turning my stride into a painful limp.

As Tuesday walked with me, I made a silent promise.

I will never leave your side willingly, Tuesday. I will stay and protect you, no matter what.

~°~  
This chapter made me cry. I am such a horrible person. Next Chapter is from a Different P.O.V, because I have a plot for it.

What are your thoughts on this book so far? Tell me?

18 months.

Oh, and stay sexy  
-Scomiche❤ 


	21. Twenty One

Kirstie's P.O.V  
This chapter will probably just be somewhere around 500 words. But I will try to make it longer.  
Eighteen months. That is how long Mitch had been gone.

Four months. That is how long it had been since Avi and I split. I felt so bad about it, but I was still focusing on finding Mitch. My hopes and dreams, that night, though were shattered.

I remembered the developing story of the body found outside the police station the night before. There was nothing on the Morning news, so it was tonight that I hoped to gain answers. I sat watching the news, as they recounted the story about the body.

"The body found early yesterday morning had been identified as Wednesday Devney, who was reported missing it her brother, Tuesday Devney eight months ago. The killers are Hollie and Ethan Wilford..." Two people flashed up on screen. They were creepy. Smiles lit their faces and everything seemed to be a great joy to them, but their eyes were cold.

The screen shifted to a police officer, standing in front of a pleasant house. "While investigating the house, they found what could only be described as a torture room. There was blood everywhere. We managed to gather two fresh samples of blood. We have identified one of the samples as Tuesday Devney. The second belongs to Mitchell Grassi, who disappeared a year and a half ago. There are no known whereabouts of either boy, but the whole force is searching..."

I paused the television and say in silence. Then I called Nel.

"Have you seen the news!?" I shrieked the moment she answered.

"No, I didn't need to. They already told me. They said that a significant amount of my son's blood was found there, mixed with the blood of the other two children. They told me to prepare for the worst." I had never heard her sound so defeated.

"No. He isn't dead." I denied, more to myself than anything. "He is just missing. Not dead."

"Face the facts, Kirstie!" She yelled through the phone. I knew she didn't mean to. "Those people killed that girl and more than likely killed her brother and my son." She hung up, without a goodbye.

For the first time since his birthday, I allowed myself to break down and cry for Mitch.

Knowing no other person to call, I called Avi. But who answered surprised me. "Kirstie?" It was Kevin. "What do you need?"

"Where is Avi? Please, I need to talk to him. It's about Mitch." I sniffed, trying to curb my crying.

There was the sound of Kevin shouting, followed by rustling, then Avi's voice came through the phone. "What? What happened?" I loved Kevin, but he just didn't understand what I was going through. Avi didn't really either, but he had a better understanding.

"They found a house. It's on the News. But they found his blood. In a house. The girl...she died!" My sentences were jumbled probably made no sense. I heard Avi tell Kevin to turn on the News.

"Where is the..." Kevin asked.

"Here. Give me the remote." I raised an eyebrow as their conversation continued. I waited as I heard the television start. Five minutes, after letting my thoughts wander, he cleared his throat. "Well..." He started.

"He's gone." I said. "My best friend was killed. His body is no where to be found." That is what the police made it sound like.

"I am so sorry, Kirstie." He returned.

"No. No. It's fine." I tried to make my voice chipper as we said our goodbyes and hung up. I hugged my knees to my chest as my mother walked in.

"What's wrong!?" She sat down next to me.

"Mitch. Th-they killed him."

"Oh honey!" She wrapped me in a hug and let me cry against her shirt.

As I cried, I came to a realization. Now I had nothing to do. I couldn't keep looking for someone dead.

I had to let him go.

I love you Mitch. I whispered to myself as I sat there, my mother hugging me close. But it is time to lay your memory to rest.

~°~  
Yay. Three chapters in one day(probably 4 because I can't stop writing this. I love it so much)

SirenNightwalker please don't kill me?

Oh, and stay sexy  
-Scomiche❤ 


	22. Twenty Two

Mitch' P.O.V  
To say that the flight was nerve wracking would be an understatement. Constantly, people were staring at us both. Some tried to glean information, but we always stuck to our stories.

"We are escaping our abusive father." I would always lay and arm across his shoulder, like and older brother protecting a younger one.

"Poor things." That is always how those curios people always responded.

The moment we were off the plane I stretched and looked at Tuesday. "That thing could not have landed soon enough."

He laughed. "You hate flying?"

"Very much." I said and realized that I had no idea where we were supposed to be going. I voiced this to Tuesday, who expressed the fact that he didn't know either.

"Well shit." I swore. I looked around momentarily, then decided to go explore. "Let's go."

"'Kay." Tuesday and put a side ways peace sign against his eye area. I wondered if he even realized he did that. It was something I had seen Wednesday do a few times.

After searching around, we saw a girl, who had lime green hair with a rainbow underneath, and snakebite piercings.

She spotted us and waved us over. "You are the two boys from Arlington, correct?" He asked and we nodded. "Good. Get in the car. I am Mahma's closest relative, but I have work, and she is getting old." She explained. "Treat her wrong and you will regret it." She told us as she began to drive away after we climbed into the car.

After about a give minute drive, we pulled up to a large metal gate surrounding a massive house.

She typed in a code and they slid open with a groan of protest.

We drove up and she ushered us into a house.

"Mahma?" She called out.

"Susie?" An old, withered voice responded and a woman came around the corner at the top of the stairs. She has stark white hair and wrinkles skin, leaning heavily on a cane. "Are these those two boys you hired?"

"Yes, Mahma. They are." Susie agreed.

"Well! Aren't they just the cutest! But they are a mess. Those clothes probably drink from the flight. Why don't you go show them the showers, then find them clothes?" She suggested sweetly to the younger woman.

The woman obliged with a smile. "Come this way." She ordered and we all walked away. The first room, Tuesday claimed and headed straight to the shower, tearing off his shirt. As he disappeared, I saw the same brand I had, with a one carved on his left him.

Our walk was silent until we reached my door. She stopped me and looked me right in the eye, brown meeting Hazel.

"I know Alex personally. You even try to escape, I will call him and he will kill your family. Tell that little friend of yours as well." With thag, she left me to shower. I skittered in and tugged my shirt up over my hair, grunting in pain. I had so many cuts, and the ones on my wrist still stung, even though it had been a week.

At last, it came away and I took off my pants and boxers, taking a moment to figure out the shower, then stepped in the hot water, ignoring the pain it caused as it fell.

I scrubbed my hair and skin, ignoring the rusty color it turned as I washed off blood and cuts opened, leaking out.

At last, turned off the water and grabbed a towel that was hanging there. I dried off and walked into the conjoining bedroom. There were clothes on the bed and I walked over to them. It was a pair of Skinny jeans and a baggy BVB shirt.

I pulled both on, surprised they fit.

"Hey! Arlington!" Susie called from the door. I gave her permission to enter and she opened the door, looking me over. Nodding, she motioned for me to follow her. Back down the hallway, towards the delicious smell of fresh cooked food. We reached the large dining room and I saw Tuesday standing off to the side.

I walked over and we stood stood side by side, looking at the table, but he didn't approach.

"Well, aren't you two going to sit down and eat?" The older lady asked, waving her hand.

Both of us stated at her, then each other. She was allowing us sit with her at the table ?neither of us had even been allowed passed the locked door for months, and our food was always what was left over, often not much.

"Mahma, they came from an abusive house, remember? To them, sitting at the table in not something either of them are accustomed to. Boys, you are part of this family. Sit at the table and eat. I saw how skinny he was." Susie spoke first to her grandmother, then to us. Slowly we approached and sat down, Tuesday flinching when Susie raised a hand to point at the bowl of something.

After that, dinner passed uneventfully. As did the next few week. Soon, we had been with her a year. I never knew someone could be so kind, being in my position.

As payment for being her companions, she fed us, clothed us, and even, I dare say, loved us.

All of that changed in the blink of an eye. She had a heart attack in the night. She was dead in the morning.

That was also the day we were thrown into the next flight to a new state, California. Alex's client there had already paid for us both. Susie dropped us at airport, treating us like what we came here as, something lower than her. We were nothing but an inconvenience. I saw it in her eyes as she booted us, handing us everything we would need to get on the plane. Was he drove away, I heard her call out.

"Finally rid of those two. They were nothing but fucking leaches." I knew then, she hated us.

~°~  
You lucky readers. Yet another update tonight. If you are lucky, there will be one more(this is recompense because I won't be on tomorrow.)  
Not my favorite chapter I have written, but whatevs.

A year and a half-Two and a half years.

Oh, and stay sexy.  
-Scomiche❤ 


	23. Twenty Three

Warning: Rape  
The man that met us at the airport reeked of smoke and beer.

"Great. Another drunkard. That didn't end well last time." I hissed to Tuesday.

The man looked at me immediately, his dark eyes narrowed. He did nothing, only ordered us to follow him. I relaxed my tensed body. A stupid move. I had grown trusting of people. The moment we got to his car, he hit me square in the groin, cause me to cry out and fall the the ground. He kicked me a few more times before he stepped back and pulled me to my feet by my hair.

"You little fucker. Watch your fucking mouth, or next time, I will cut out your damn tongue." He snarled. I stayed silent, looking at my feet.

Oh, how I hadn't missed the abuse. He shoved us in the car and began to drive away.

"I can't wait to get you home. So many things can happen with three. Especially with such an inexperienced one!" The man chirpped excitedly. I nearly threw up. No. Tuesday did not deserve to lose his Virginity to the hands of someone who didn't love him. It happened to me and it was the worst feeling in the world.

I remembered how dirty I felt. I remembered feeling like nothing more than a whore, someone there for for pleasure. My parents had told me about how the first time was supposed to be safe and mutual, wanted one hundred percent. It was supposed to filled with love. But mine was filled with dark lust and pain. There was no love there.

I grabbed Tuesday's hand and gave him a sad smile. I couldn't tell him how I was sorry this was happening to him. I had long since learned to never say no.

Drake had beat me nearly to death one time for saying no. Saying no to the men at the club ended up with with two punishments, one from the man you denied and one from Dominic and Ciro.

We drove through the run down parts of town and into a cruddy looking house. He ushered us out of the car and through the smokey halls. People leaned out of door, whistling and commenting on us.

"Shit. These kids are damn fine. Hope you let me show them a good time sometime, Dramine." One called out and I pulled Tuesday closer. He had never been exposed to such things. I wanted to get him out of here. He didn't belong here. The dark skinned man called back to whoever had shouted.

"Ha! After I am done with them, you won't even compare. And that is if I let you have them afterwards. Best night I will have had in a while." He laughed, then herded us into a room, slamming the door.

"You!" He pointed to me. "I want you to strip him." His finger moved to Tuesday, who was staring between the two of us, eyes wide with fear.

I walked over to my friend and grabbed the hem of his shirt. "I am so sorry, Tuesday. I am so, so sorry for this." I pulled it up over his head and he just stared at me, frozen in place.

I fell to my knees and unbuttoned his pants, pulling them and his boxers down. I looked up at him, dark eyes meeting pale eyes. He had tears falling down his face, a few landing on me. Then I looked away.

I felt a hand placed on the back of my head, before I could move back, and I looked up. But the hand wasn't Tuesday's. Fingers tangled painfully in my hair. The grip tightened and I was yanked back by my hair and thrown to the side, looking up to see Tuesday being pushed against the bed. "Ready for the time of your life?" He snarled and straddled Tuesday. The poor boy was sobbing.

That was you, you whore, before you became addicted to having sex with a different man every night! Horny Bitch.

There it was again. That same mocking voice, calling out at me.

I tried my hardest to ignore the world around me, block out Tuesday's cries, the man's screams. I hated it all. I wanted to remove myself from this, but I couldn't. No. I was stuck in this living Hell.

Finally, the man seemed satisfied and left, making himself presentable. I stood up and moved to the bed, crawling up and holding Tuesday in my arms.

"I wish, oh how I wish this hadn't happened to you. I know how it feels." I whispered and rocked back and forth. "I am so sorry this happened." His hands fisted in my shirt as I held him close, letting him cry. I would not let him go through this like I did, thinking of himself as nothing, because I went through that. I suffered that alone and I refused to let him know that pain.

Despite only having known him for a year and a half, he was my brother and I would protect him.

"I will watch over you, Tuesday. I promise." I murmured against his hair, unkept. I held him as he fell alseep, whispering the things I had longed to hear when I was raped.

I knew how low he probably felt. How he probably thought no one would ever love him again. I knew, because this was me, thought there was a difference in our situations. I was here to help him.

"Your value has not lessened. You are perfect. You are beautiful. Someone, someday, will hold you in their arms and kiss you and love you, and think you are the world. You will make it through. You are loved. Someone out there is looking for you, because they love you more than themselves." As I murmured that last sentence, he whispered something.

"Thursday."

"Yes. Thursday is looking for you." I hoped my words were true.

~°~  
So! This book will come to an end soon. But! The next book is called Home, so fret not!(Lies, actually. It's not called Home)

2 1/2 years

Oh, and stay sexy  
-Scomiche❤ 


	24. Twenty Four

Tuesday only seemed to deteriorate from that night. Thankfully, they left him alone. For the most part. But I saw him eating less and less of what little food thry gave us.

You're just over reacting. The food is gross. That is why he isn't eating. I mean, it could be squirrel for all you know. Actually, squirrel doesn't sound to bad. Hey! I heard frogs go really well with Squirrel. Wanna try? Wait. Where would we get a frog?

All this fucking smoke was getting me. And I knew, based upon the strangeness I felt, the insane thoughts, like I was at the dentist and they just gave me happy gas, that it wasn't just cigarettes they were smoking.

As we would walk down the hall, the favorite thing of the residents to do was lean out and put out whatever it was they were smoking against our arms and necks, and even Tuesday's cheek one time.

By far, I was the favorite. I was glad because I did all I could to keep all eyes I could off of Tuesday. I kept my promise to him. I wasn't going to let him get hurt. Not if I could help it.

I was walking back down the hall towards the room I inhabited with Tuesday, when the door opened. Smoke poured out into the hallway, forcing me to cover my mouth.

"Well, well, well. Now there are three of you. A night like that should be my favorite." The woman hissed, reaching out, digging the burning ash against my arm, making me flinch and grit my teeth in pain.

"There is only one of me, and no." I hurried around her outstretched arm. Thankfully, most of these people were too high to tell on me for 'No'.

I opened the door and slipped inside, closing it behind me like I was keeping out an apocalypse. From one of the dark corners, Tuesday spoke up.

"Oh. Just you." His voice was so broken. Even after Wednesday...even after that, his voice never sounded so defeated. Whenever his eyes met mine, his seemed duller, and though a light inside he had gone out.

"Yeah. Just me. Hey, guess what I managed to smuggle in here?" I looked around, then walked closer to him, producing a wrapped item.

He tipped his head to the side and I sat down in front of him. I set it down and unwrapped the dirty cloth slowly, giggling as Tuesday huffed.

At last, it revealed a single cookie. Or, it was. Now it was in several pieces.

"Oh my god!" He gasped. "How the hell did you get this?!"

"That is irrelevant." I said nonchalantly, though I shuddered inside. The favors I had to do. "But I did it to get my special boy a treat." I smiled and pushed it towards him.

"Hell no." He said, more out of shock than anything. "You don't want any yourself?" He seemed shocked and I just laughed, getting to my knees I leaned forward and hugged him, supporting myself with my hand.

"Nope." I popped the 'p'. "This is all for you." I stood and walked over to the bed, flopping backwards, eyes closed. Suddenly the bed dipped and I cracked open an eye, looked at Tuesday as he sat beside me, nibbling the cookie, seeming unaware of my gaze. I smiled and closed my eyes, content.

Yes, I was still stuck in hell, but I had the sweetest person with me. If it was my choice, though, I would suffer this alone so he didn't have to go through this.

A few months ago, he told me about his friends.

"They were all so different." He started, chuckling. "Monday. You can't help but love her. She is also so quiet. And has no sense of humor, or so she leads you to believe. She is one of the funniest people I knew." His eyes glittered for the first time in months. "Thursday, well, he was something special. That boy could outsass anyone. He didn't care much for other's opinions. I remember, on the first day he arrived, one of the girl hit on him and he simply patted her head and walked away, calling back, 'Wrong team, sweetheart.' But his fashion sense. It was horrendous." These memories got him laughing and I watched him, smiling. It was good to see him like this.

"Oh, how I would love to meet them." I said and he grinned.

"That isn't even all of them. Saturday and Sunday, those two were inseparable. It amazing to me that they ended up together. Sunday, well, everyone just called her Conscience. She was always sweet and trying to appeal to people's better nature. Everything about her was bright and modest. Saturday, in the other hand, was dark. Everything she wore was dark, she dyed her hair purple, and if she wanted to, her mouth could emit jokes dirty enough to make God blush." He sighed, the happiness chilling out to soberness. I was leaning against the headboard.

"If you don't want to tell me..." I trailed off.

"No. I want to. I want to share them with you. Despite these differences, they are always together. Sunday always called Saturday 'Starfall', after a necklace Sunday had given her on their first date. I had always wanted that." He paused for a moment then laughed again. "Now Friday. Friday was something! He had no chill. At least, until he was next to Monday, then he was a stuttering mess. His hair was long enough in the back to put into a ponytail-which he did, everyday!-and he has several of those fake hair accessories. He was...crazy. He loved to sing, but DJing, that was his thing and he was so good at it." He smiled and sighed again, falling silent, caught up in memories. I saw a few years fall from his eyes and just watched him.

"Mitch! Hello? You didn't die on me, did you? I know you've been watching me. I slept with your mother!" I blinked.

"What?" I asked and Tuesday began to laugh, a sound I had missed. "There is no way you slept with my mom." I replied and looked at him.

"Hey, know how you told me about your friends a few months back?" I added after a pause.

"Yes..." His eyes narrowed.

"Well, I want to tell you about mine."

~°~  
Hey! Next chapter! So, I know I said that I wouldn't be on today, and that is because I thought it was true. But it isn't. So! Here it is!

3 Years Four months

Next chapter will be a special one.

Oh, and stay sexy  
-Scomiche❤ 


	25. Twenty Five

Scott's P.O.V(Some years ago)  
Warning: Neglect and Abuse, homophobia  
I opened my eyes and sighed. Same view I had had every morning for almost two years, and I still wasn't used to it.

I used to have a nice bedroom with a large window, which I would stare out for hours, lost in my own little world.

I had developed this when I was about seven. That's when my parents started fighting.

I remembered the first time it happened.

"So, Scott, how was your day?" My mom asked as she speared a piece of chicken with her fork, looking at me.

"Oh, God. Seriously, Connie?" My dad snorted, taking another swallow of his beer. "You are so stupid. Can't even ask a meaningful question. God. I wonder sometimes why I even married you."

My gaze shifted to my father, eyes wide. He had never spoken this way to my mother.

She seemed shocked herself, but just waved it off. "Yes. You are right, dear. I should have thought of a better question."

I sat there and stared at them. Both were acting uncharacteristic. Dad never spoke ill to or of my mother, and my mother, well she never just admitted she was wrong.

"Mommy?" I asked, looking at her. "You don't have to apologize. It wasn't a stupid question. I like when you-" My father cut me off, slamming his beer bottle down.

"Shut your mouth, boy, this doesn't concern you." He snarled.

"Richard! I will not let you speak to my son that way!" My mother stood up and I shrunk down in my seat. She looked and me and smiled sweetly. "Why don't you go play in your room?" She suggested and I scampered away, ignoring my father as he ordered me to stay. Sorry. Mom spoke first.

I shut the door and ran to the window looking out. I tried to ignore the screaming downstairs, but the moment there was the sound of breaking glass, followed by crying, I cracked open my door and leaned out cautiously. My dad was stomping up the stairs and I hid my head until his door shut. The moment it did, I opened my and scurried down to the kitchen.

There was my mother, on her hands and knees, blood mixing with beer. There was beer all over the counters, and glass was spread as far as where I stood.

"Mommy?" I asked, going to take a step towards her.

She turned, eyes red, cheeks wet. "Scotty buckets, please stay out. Wouldn't want you to cut your feet now, would we?" I looked at her hands, seeing the cuts and stayed where I was, watching my mother. I didn't see the bruise on her neck, where my father chocked her.

I didn't know that six short months later, my mother would disappear without even a word.

The morning of my mother's disappearance, my father woke me up to tell me to get all of my stuff out of my room and into the basement by that night. Anything left would be thrown out.

I, a small boy of now eight, moved from the top floor the the dank basement in one day, all in my own.

The first things I took were the pictures of before, as well as all stuffed animals I could carry. After a few trips, I found a basket and used that to take more stuff down. The only thing my father didn't let me take was my clothes.

"Only good boys get clothes." He snarled. Both of my sisters stood there, shocked, ordered to not help.

From that day, my place in the house was made clear.

I was lower than the dirt.

Skip ahead eight years. I had become quite the survivor. Thankfully, My Father didn't care if I brought friends over, as long as their lips remained locked and I would be ready to do what ever I was told.

I was sixteen. Sixteen and I still had to beg for food and water, still had to bend to his every will. My sisters left me here, alone, to deal with this drunkard.

After mom left, his drinking got worse. He began to starve me for days, acting as though he didn't even see as I, a boy of nine, ten, even eleven, begged to be fed. After that, I stopped begging and began to look for food elsewhere.

The streets is where I went next. At twelve, I sat alone on a steer corner, all year, everyday, asking for food. It was always late when I was out there, after my father was done with me for the night.

Two years I did this, sometimes just digging through dumpsters. My clothes were a mess. Thankfully, I was allowed to wash them and shower, but only if it didn't inconvenience anyone else in the house.

Fourteen. That is when I met him. He was almost sixteen, blonde, with beautiful hazel eyes, a little taller than I, but slimmer. Even starved, I was still broader than he was.

"Hey!" He greeted and plopped down next to me, smiling. "Name's Alex. Who are you?"

"Depends on who you ask." I replied, not even looking up from my lap as yet another person passed me up, casting a disdainful glance my way.

"Well..." He paused and then continued. "I am asking you. So, what do you call yourself?"

I couldn't help but give a bitter laugh. "Worthless, dirty, you name it, I probably call myself it." Shaking my head, I finally looked at him. "Scott. You can call me Scott."

He smiled. "Well, you and I, Scott. You and I are going to be best friends! I know a place you could work that would get you money."

"I don't want money. I just want food." I said. I couldn't have money, not with my father. I couldn't use it for anything.

"Well then, they will be more than happy to take you if all they have to do is feed you!" He exclaimed happily. He then looked around. "See you tomorrow, Scotty Boy." He stood and waved.

True to his word, every day, he came and sat with me.

I adjusted well to my job. I was to lure out kids from bad situations, like mine, and bring them to Alex's boss. Easy. And they fed me.

Alex, or Allie, and I got closer and soon, he was coming over to the house.

"Boy!" My father bellowed the moment I opened the door and I flinched. Not a good way to start off the first visit.

"Yes, sir?" I asked, walking towards the living room, where I knew I would find my father, sitting in his reclining chair, smoking, surrounded by bottles.

"You have your chores to got. Get on them. Now!" He growled and threw a bottle. In all y fifteen year old stuborness, I didn't move as it flew towards me, then finally hit me painfully in the ribs. Running them, I rushed about, doing as he told me, Allie following along behind, smiling and chattering.

At last, I finished and I took him to the basement, into the room in had occupied for years.

That was the room where I had my first kiss with Allie, noting but nerves and curiosity. But it grew. They became passionate, a little over a year later, I gave him my V card.

That was the night I first slept in the streets.

As Allie and I drew closer to our climaxes, panting and moaning, my father walking in on us.

He began to rant and scream about how he did not raise his son to be fucked by a man. "I will not have a Fag in my house!" this face was red, like a cherry, and Alex and I, still not relived, stood up as he yelled, collected our clothes, then slipped out of the room.

Before we did, I grabbed a picture. It was the last picture I had of my mother. She and I were standing there, smiling widely, hugging. I had looked at it so many times. I could see the bruises on her perfect skin.

Allie asked me about why and I told him.

"Tell me more about your mother? She sounds wonderful." He sighed and I obliged.

"She was beautiful. And kind, and loving. Their first fight was over my father yelling at me." I tucked the picture away as I pulled on my boxers. "She never let me see her cry, though I knoe she did, I saw her when she thought I couldn't. I saw the marks my father left on her. Then, one day, with no explanation, left me."

"Oh, Scott." He whispered and pulled me close, resting out foreheads together as we stood on the street, almost completely naked.

With Allie by my side, I adjusted to street life.

Allie himself rose through the ranks and was finally the boss. I couldn't help but call him boss after I found out, though quickly it was dropped.

He and I had so many great nights together.

I always stayed on the streets, never accepting his offer to sleep in his room. No. I would sleep on the streets until I got a house for myself.

This left me alone to think over things. My mother's disappearance always puzzled me and I was determined to find out what happened.

I found out, around my eighteenth birthday what had actually happened to Mom.

I stormed into my father's hospital room. He had nearly drunk himself to death. Here he was, struggling to recover from it.

I walked right up to his bed and pointed at him. "What happened to Mom?" I whispered.

"She left." He spat back, words muffled by the tubes.

"No. She wouldn't have left. Not without her kids. Did you kill her?"

His eyes flicked away and I stood there. "You did. You killed my mother. You took her away from me." Something over took me and I didn't even know what was going on until I heard the flat line, and doctors and nurses rushed around me, pushing me out.

I killed my father, but I felt only peace. "These you go, you have been avenged, mom." I whispered.

Oh, that was only the least of the crimes I committed.

~°~  
Sorry if this sucks. I wrote most of this at like 11 o'clock at night(right now)

So, some Scott back story.  
Yay.

Oh, and stay sexy  
-Scomiche❤ 


	26. Twenty Six

Mitch's P.O.V  
"Kirstie. Where do I even begin with her. She is so beautiful, with dark eyes and lovely blonde hair. She has pure white teeth and is always smiling. I can only imagine when I see her again, she will smack me upside the head and tell me 'I told you so, stupid.' Just like when we were kids." I laughed, tears gathering in my eyes as I remembered her.

"I would love to meet her." Tuesday smiled, watching me closely as he ate another piece of cookie.

"Avi and Kevin. Now those two, complicated." I smiled. "Avi is very handsome man. He actually was not technically a student. But he went to class and did the work anyway. I am still confused on that. He was so handsome, with these beautiful green eyes and such soft hair. Now Kevin? He was never really my friend because we hung out only a few times, and that was because I was there with Avi. He had dark skin and kept his hair short, and he always had this strange sense of humor. Was filming one time and he said that the camera couldn't see him "'cause I'm dark." Then proceeded to make a face. He was so talented. That boy could seem and beatbox, and play the cello. I can't even sing." I looked at him.

"They all sound so wonderful." He smiled contentedly, swinging his legs in the air. Somewhere along the way in my speech, he had rolled over into his stomach and put his feet in the air. Before I could respond, Dramine crashed open the door and looked at us with glazed, red eyes.

"If it isn't my two favorite mice!" He greeted. He was high.

"Come here, my little mouse!" He squeaked and held his arms out like a young child. Knowing Tuesday was petrified of him, I scooted off the bed and walked towards him, into his drinking embrace.

"You have been a bad mouse. Now I have to punish you." He whispered in my ear.

He was higher than I had ever seen him. I didn't like it. I looked at Tuesday over my shoulder and motioned for him to hide in that same corner. Thankfully, we had experienced him high enough to know he never searched. Just stood at the door.

He moved me to a wall and pushed me up against it. I could feel the frigid wall through the thin material and holes him my shirt.

I stood there, hands on the wall, eyes shut tight, waiting for what I knew was coming.

"One!" He counted and I felt a belt connect with my skin. I screamed, and my joints locked up, muscles tensing. The next hit sent me to the ground. I could hear his laugh, harsh in my ears.

I lost count of the hits, crouched in a fetal position, hands over the back of my neck and head.

Finally, he stopped, but replaced the whipping for giving me a few hard kicks to my shoulder, one of them connecting with my head.

I don't remember anything after that, only blackness. Then a voice, worried.

"Mitch? Oh, God please don't be dead!" The voice pleaded and I forced my eyes open, fighting back the wave of dizziness that made my stomach churn.

"What the fuck?" I swore and looked up at him. My back was on fire. I knew this pain. The first punishment in had ever received was whipping. "Damn."

"Y-you um, passed out!" Tuesday stuttered. He had never stuttered before. This must've scared him bad.

"I'm fine. Just a little queasy." I lied. In reality I felt like crap. My head was pounding and I felt the all to familiar whip weals. I reached and arm up and hugged him, pulling myself up.

He wrapped his arms around me and I held back my groan of pain.

"He really did a number on me. Damn." I grunted as I managed to sit up, Tuesday letting me go.

The door slammed opens and we both looked up. It was a different man that had opened the door.

"Come now. A trade in going on. And you are the items up now." He growled. He was burly, shorter than both of us, but still stronger than us. Granted, we were starved.

His dark eyes were narrowed and he had an ugly scare across his face.

Grabbing Tuesday's hand, I moved forward, teeth gritted in pain. My back stung and each movement made it all the clearer. I knew my already torn shirt was completely torn, revealing the weals on my skin.

Through the drug smoke filled hallways, into a room filled with chattering. There were four of us behind what could only be described as a makeshift stage. One of the others was a short girl, four foot nine maybe, with long dark hair, bruised and bloody, looking down at her feet. She couldn't have been more than thirteen.

Next to her was a boy, about average, with messy red hair and freckled cheeks. Both looked nervous, shifting side to side, foot to foot.

"Hey." Tuesday whispered, waving. Their days shot to him, Green and Cognac. "Shhh!" The girls snarled, earning her a cuff to the side of her head from a man standing near.

"Silence!"

Before anything else could be said, Dramaine walked out and clapped his hands. "Ladies and Gentlemen." He greeted. The chittering stopped. I saw all eyes go straight to him. "The first item we have is a girl by the name of Farras."

The girl stepped forward and dropped her Green gaze back down.

I looked to Tuesday and tried to tune out what was going up on stage, but I couldn't. Not truly.

"The bidding will start at four k. She is a very obedient slave." Slaves. That is what we were to these people. Nothing more than something to complete a task for them.

"Twenty k. Do I here Twenty one k? Going once, going twice, sold! To the fellow in the back with gray hair." He called out. "Come pay and collect after the last item has been auctioned off. Next, all the way from London, exhibit two." That word made me sick. Slaves and show cases. That is what we are.

Like the girl, he walked out and stood there, looking down, as his fate was bid on. He was sold for twenty three thousand.

"Now, for my favorite of this show, from my own personal collection..."

He called us out, and like the kids before us, we walked out. But I kept my head up, watching the group of people. There were a ton of people, from all over.

"I collected these two together, and they make for an interesting duo, but, I will be willing to split them up. It's double for both." I felt like a piece of meat. Nothing more. But I had grown used to it. I have long since accepted that I am nothing but a toy.

"So, the bidding will start at five k." I stood there, watching the people bid back and forth, higher and higher. Finally, I lady in the back stood up and shouted.

"I will back five thousand more than the cost doubled for both." He said and the room went silent. I saw the smile that lot his face and he pointed to her.

"Sold!" He looked around. "Now, those of you who bought, please come pay and collect your prize." He smiled, eyes glittering, like this was an antique they bought, not someone's life.

The one who bought Tuesday and I was the first up. She was bundled in a fur coat, with ten pounds of makeup on her face, and obviously dyed blonde hair. I had long since lost the blonde in my hair. It was back to the dark brown, and very unkempt.

She stopped the money in a brief case one of the better dressed men brought forward and dropped a huge wad of money in there. Her next stop was us. She grabbed Tuesday's chin, her nails leaving crescents.

"It's been a while since I have had pets this beautiful!" She crowed. "So worth all of the money I spent on you!"

I just stared at her as she let Tuesday go and beckoned to us. "Come now, my pets. Home awaits!"

~°~  
I am so so sorry this took so long! I have just been so swamped and tired. Started a summer course that is just math. It is so draining. But I have been trying my hardest to get this written. Because of that, I feel that is isn't the best. And because of this, I cannot promise frequent update for the next few weeks.

3 Years Four months.

Book is only a few chapters from the finish! Yay. The last chapter will be on hold, though, till I managed to update my other books.

Oh, and stay sexy  
-Scomiche❤ 


	27. Twenty Seven

For those of you wondering, this is what the blood in the vial looks like. Watch with caution.  
The moment she got us to her house, she led us to a room. It was a decent room. All except for the lack of beds. It had dressers and tables, covered in all sorts of items, but no beds. In one of the far corners, I saw a few cages. Strange.

"Where are the beds?" Tuesday asked as she rummaged about on one of the more cluttered table.

"In that corner." She paused to point. Straight to the cages. Both of us stared between her and the cages.

"You can't be serious!" I gasped out, shock destroying the mental filter I had built.

She didn't reply to our reactions, instead continued digging around until she found whatever it was. I k we because she made a sound of accomplishment.

She turned around and held them out, brown eyes glittering in her wrinkled, pale face.

"Collars?" looked at them. They were strange collars.

"Yes, now kneel down, both of you, Beautiful Pets, and let me put it on you." She smiled sweetly. Though a part of my head, buried under years of abuse and inability to safely say no, shouted out to me to tell her no, I still dropped down and bowed my head, avoiding eye contact.

She slipped it around and smiled at me, tapping my chin, telling me to get to my feet and watch her, before she pulled out a small box from her pocket.

I stared at it, uncomprehending. The smile she had on her face, though, the moment she brought it up, made my stomach drop.

"Time to teach you proper manners, Pet." She purred. Then her thumb pressed a button and I fell the the ground, clawing at my neck. There was no way to accurately describe the feeling. It was like being shocked thousands of times all at once, repeatedly. Not only that, but it traveled. Down my arms and torso, making my hair stand on end and I tried to make it stop, crying and begging.

Laughing, she clicked off the remote, then turned to Tuesday. "Let that be a lesson. If you even think about taking off the collars, a worse fate will befall you."

Both of bus nodded, or Tuesday nodded and I did some strange rendition of it, my body still aching.

"Now! I will give you today to get acclimated, but tomorrow, the fun begins!" She turned and headed to the door, walking out.

The moment the door shut, Tuesday was at my side. "Mitch!? Are you okay? God, today is not your day." He tried for humor, but neither of us laughed as he helped me sit up.

"Hasn't been my day for a very long time, Tuesday." I smiled bitterly. "I want to see the cages."

He and I, after the painstakingly slow process of lugging my butt to my feet, wandered over to check them out.

The first thing I noticed was the leash, hanging in the back. Then, the bowls, two in each.

"We will be eating out of dog bowls?" Tuesday growled in my ear as he helped my shaky body stay up right.

"Holy shit." I swore. I honestly was not sure about how to feel on this. Cages. Collars. Whatever else this lady had planned.

"Let's see what she has on these tables." Tuesday suggested and I agreed. We wandered over, my legs finally supporting more of my weight.

As long as I held the table edge, I could stay up. I picked up a strange looking vial and nearly dropped it the moment I saw what it was. Written neatly on the glass were words that made me sick to my stomach.

Experiment 37: Type O blood, Diamondback Rattlesnake Venom.

The blood was like jelly in the hat. I couldn't help but gag, barely resisting the urge to throw up what little food I had in my stomach.

I set it back down and stumbled back, crumpling to the ground, physically sick.

"What's wrong?!" Tuesday ran over, that one extra long lock of hair waving like crazy as he moved to me from across the room.

"The-the vial. B-b-blood." I managed out, shaking. Shaking the same way I did when I was sick. I managed to point weakly at the table and he walked over. He held it up and questioned.

"This one?" He set it back down at my nod. How sad. This boy, years younger than me, being the one to comfort me. But I accepted it.

He knelt down by me. "I won't let you near anything else I found in this room then." He said. I smiled weakly at him. "A horror story. That is what this room is. Something straight out of a Stephen King Novel."

"You read those?" I inquired. He did not seem like the type.

"Hell no. I value sleep. And I live a horror story all my own. But I would imaging this to be in one." He shook his head sadly. "Come on, I'll go get you to the cage. You really don't look well."

"I don't feel to chipper either." I replied.

Tuesday laughed as he once again lugged my fat ass up. "I have never heard anyone use that word. What does it even mean?"

"I have no idea." His laugh was just so infectious, I began to laugh as well, feeling something in my chest I hadn't for a while.

It wasn't hope. No. That died with Wednesday. I knew I was never getting out of this mess. So I stopped hoping and praying my family was coming. Stopped believing that I was going to get out of this hell hole.

Joy? No. Not joy. This was something foreign, something I had never felt before.

I brushed it off and we continued. We settled in one of them, Tuesday's head in my lap as I tested against the bars and he curled up beside me.

Hours late, she returned, just as caked in makeup.

"Tomorrow, the fun begins! Oh, and to you, my pets, I am Mistress. Anything else and you will suffer the consequences. Now I'm your own cage." She jabbed Tuesday with a cane of sorts she had grabbed.

He stretched himself out and moved into the next one. She connected him the the leash, then did the same with me, closing our doors.

"See you in the morning, Pets."

~°~  
Hey, Scömìche is on a roll. Two chapters.

So many fudging classes in the summer.

3 years four months.

Mitch is 20, Tuesday is about 17-18

Oh, and stay sexy  
-Scomiche❤ 


	28. Twenty Eight

Blood/gore waning(don't really know. Careful if it makes you sick, 'Kay?)  
The morning came all too soon.

"Good morning!" She sang, forcing both Tuesday and I out of sleep. Anyone that was that perky in the morning should be stabbed.

She unleashed us then opened the cages, first Tuesday's then mine. Both of us just kind of sat there, watching her.

"Well! Come on, then!" She waved at us to come closer and we did. She reached forward and patted our heads, uttering praises.

Then her hand tightened against Tuesday's hair and yanked a handful out, making him cry out. The moment I went to move to his side, she pulled out that damn collar remote. I had no doubt in my mind that she would press it, but make it last longer this time.

I stopped, staring at her with a hate burning in my chest. Never had I hated anyone more.

Still gripping the hair, she walked over to a...cauldron? That was the best way to describe it. It was a large black pot. Them she picked it up and looked at us. "Come along. Come along." She said then left the room. I immediately hugged Tuesday as we followed her, trying to supply some comfort to him.

I knew it wouldn't be much. Neither of us could tell the other it would be okay. Because we didn't know. We don't know that it would, and neither of us had hope. I knew that light of hope was gone from my eyes, and I saw it extinguish in Tuesday the moment we lost Wednesday.

"This won't be forever." I promised. It couldn't, could it? I would hate it, stuck here, in this life, until I wasn't living anymore.

Dying. That was the only way I could see to get out of here. But I wouldn't. Not unless Tuesday went first. I refused to leave him alone. I know what it was like, trying to survive this alone. As long as he was still alive, I would be too.

I watched as she put whatever it was she was carrying onto a very large stove burner. Turning it on, she sat there for a second, before she turned around and looked at me.

"Approach." She ordered, smiling like one might expect a grandmother to. I did as told, moving towards her. The moment I was close enough, she grabbed my arm and pulled it towards her. From somewhere within that gaudy outfit she was wearing, she produced a knife.

"We are going to try 'Bloodletting'." She said as she pressed it to where I still had puckered scars from the Wilford's. I couldn't help but look at her. I knew what bloodletting was. I wasn't sick, why the hell was she bloodletting?

Before I could react, she slid the knife across my skin, creating a deep cut. I hissed in pain as blood started to slid down my arm, dripping in puddles to the ground, collecting quickly. She cut deep.

I stared at the blood. Somehow, with the pain on my wrist, everything else just kind of faded into the background, muting. I almost didn't realized she dropped that one and grabbed my other one. I couldn't take my eyes away she she repeated.

The she ordered me to hold my extremities over the pot. I did as she asked, watching as the blood fell onto the mousey locks of hair. I let it drip until my vision blurred and my head felt fuzzy.

My fingers felt like they did when you cut of circulation. This fact made me chuckle. If felt like the circulation was cut off, but there was still blood pulsing out of the cuts on my wrists.

Then my legs failed. I blinked rapidly, fighting back the blackening of my vision, as I landed on the ground, arms held to my chest. The cuts stung fiercely at first, and now, like everything else, was faded and dull.

Then non-existent. My eyes shut and I felt myself tumbling through my mind, free falling into what ever pit my head opened as I fell unconsciousness.

What could have been seconds or years later, I managed to come to. I was laying in my cage, chained, with Tuesday looking at me through the bars of his, eyes wide.

"Oh thank god!" He said, and I heard the smuggle as he swiped the back of his hand across his nose. "I thought-" He stopped. "I thought you were dying." He looked away. "There was just so much blood. Your arms were covered, and the floor was covered, and your clothes were covered, and...and...and..." He stopped, looking down at his lap.

As I began to pull myself up a little, to lean on my elbow, to allow me to reach through to grab his hand, I heard him whisper. "Quite pulling shit like that."

I stared at him, then laughed, my eyes scrunching up.

"Why the fuck are you laughing?!" He growled as me as I felt tears fall down my cheeks as I laughed.

"Oh. Tuesday." My laughs faded to chuckles and I opened my eyes to look at him. "You are just too funny for your own good." I gripped his hand, then dropped back down onto my back. I moved my wrist and hissed. Picking it up, I looked at it. My wrist was wrapped expertly in gauze and the cast like bandage. The white gauze was splotxhed with the brown red color of dried blood.

"How long have I been out?" I asked. Couldn't have been the whole day. There was no way.

"Two-three hours, about. She locked us both back up after you passed out." He shook his head. "She is insane. The whole time she was 'patching you up', she was talking about if boiling the hair with blood would do anything different to it than the water did." He shuddered. "She didn't care you almost died. Well, she did because she would have lost an Experiment."

I just stared is shock.

But Had it been a few months later, I would not have been shocked. Six months. That's how long I was here. There were very, very few days that stuck out to with as much clarity as my last day.

~°~  
Yay for updates. I know, all of these writers update one a week, and here I am, apologizing for the lack of updates for two days.

3 years, 4 months

Two more chapters. Then Absent will end.

-Scomiche❤ 


	29. Twenty Nine

Blood/gore warning  
Six months. I had been here for six months.

I would trade a day with her for a year with Ethan and his wife.

This woman was out for nothing more than scientific knowledge, as she put it. To her, that meant using us in what ever ways she wanted. Tuesday and I both had scars on our arms, and all over. Tuesday was missing a piece of his right ear. I remembered that day. She wanted to know if ear tasted chicken. That night. She ate his ear.

Going from the top of my left shoulder, down at an angle to a inch or so past my spine, ending in my waist. It was an ugly scar, cherry red. She had used a heated knife, trying to figure out if it cut through skin better.

We both had scars on our cheek bones. "Bringing out those pretty cheeks." She'd said.

Our bodies were covered in the marks of six months of psychotic torture. She took samples of our skin to test their reaction to different household chemicals.

I went to sleep at night, only to be awakened by Tuesday suffering through nightmares, or after going through my own.

One of her favorites was to see if our blood properties changed depending on when and what we ate. She would feed us like kings for days, taking blood samples everyday. Then she would stop feeding us except for a moldy piece of bread at night, then that would stop coming, and she would let us starve. I remember times when I almost passed out because of this. I remembered holding Tuesday as his body reacted poorly to the lack of food.

I was always aware of how much put ribs stuck out, even after feasting.

I remember my last day with her clearly.

"There are my beautiful Pets!" She said. Neither of us were ever asleep anymore she she came in. We slept few hours each night, watching, waiting. "Today is a special day!" She clapped her hands and we began the same ritual we did every morning.

She unhooked us, let us out, then threw clothes at us. "These are what you are wearing today." I lifted it up. It was a simple pair of shorts. That was it. Of course. She must have had something planned. That was the only time she ever wanted us mostly naked.

I looked to Tuesday, who shared my look of fear, and then we did as always, changed into them.

"Not looking forward to today." He said. I couldn't agree more.

"Very good!" She chirped. "Now let's get started on the day. So many things to accomplish before the night arrives!"

She led us to the same room she always did.

"Arms up, stomachs to the wall!" She barked. Both of us walked over and did as she told. My stomach arched backwards, avoiding contact with the cold. She tied up our hands, then I heard clanking of metal and something metal pressed against my skin in the middle on my shoulder blade.

"I've heard that sharp knives cut faster, so I am testing it out. First, with the dull." She pushed it harder and the blade finally pushed into my back and through my muscles as she pulled down, all the way to my hip. I screamed, tears falling from my eyes, soaking my cheeks.

I could hear her muttering to herself as she removed the knife, blood seeping into my jeans.

"Now to see how well the sharp does." She said, and repeated the same thing, this time on my right side, digging it deep as she pulled it down to my hip bone.

"Interesting. Let's try the same with my other pet!" I head her crow of my sobs, and the rattle of my chains. I forced myself to look away as she did the same to Tuesday, his cries mixing with mine.

She had us flip over, her hands and shirt stained crimson. "Same process, but the front this time. And I want you to watch!" She pointed at me, then laid the blade on my collarbone.

I ducked my head, eyes trained on the blade as she cut open my skin. I watching in silence, the scream choked in my throat, as the knife spilt open my chest and blood pulsed out. It was agonizing.

"So beautiful, all covered in crimson." She murmured. "Now let's use the sharp knife."

She set a pristine blade against my collarbone and then yanked down, deeper than any of the other times. I heard a scraping sound and managed to force a scream out. I looked down and saw a flash of white. Bone. She cut all the way to my ribs.

My legs were shaking, barely holding me up as I stared at my bloody chest. She moved back and then had Tuesday flip over. With him, she did it at an angle, the two cuts meeting where the button of his shorts was.

She walked out, muttering to herself.

Silence followed. We stopped crying, stopped moving, letting a pained silence fall as we stood there. She had left to go do whatever it was she did between experiments.

When she returned again, something was made clear to me.

Her first experiment hurt, but paled in comparison to what she did next.

"Experiments aside, it's time for some fun." She ran her hands up Tuesday's naked torso.

She had us looked at the wall, then began to carve a design into my back.

"For you, Protection." She hissed as she cut. I weighed and screamed. The pain was so intense. I was struggling to keep my eyes open.

A large boom filled the house. All at once, she stopped and unclaimed us. "Back to the room. Now. Into your cages. Make a sound, and I will lock you in the Room."

Both of us nodded and ran down the hall, using the walls as support. We were introduced to the Room early on. It was a bathroom of sorts. She had pushed us into it, followed by a bucket. It was filled with ammonia and a chemical I couldn't remember. She shut the door and left us in there. Soon, breathing hurt, and both of us began to cough violently, hacking up blood. Twice, she had put us in there.

We moved to the cages, still bleeding and covered in blood. I moved into the back of the cage, watching the door fearfully. I reached through the bars and Tuesday took my hand, eyes reflecting my fear.

We sat there, looking down or at each other for several minutes, shaking. I was leaning heavily on the side of the cage, my breaths coming in gasps as I fought back darkness.

"Officer Denning!" I heard a voice call and my eyes flashed to the door. "There is a room down here." The voice was familiar. I knew it. But from where?

"That must be where they are. We've reached this whole house. Are you sure they are here?" It was an older voice this time.

"Very, sir. I have ways of knowing." The first voice responded, then raised to a shout. "San Diego PD. Arms in the air." I stared. That voice was so familiar. Why was it so familiar to me? How did I know it?

The door swung open and I gasped, trying to shrink back further. It was a face I hadn't seen in years.

The person drew closer, eyes staring straight at the cages. "I found them, sir. Two of them." They drew nearer and then squatted in front of my cage, just as my muscles failed and I slipped down to a laying position, laying in my blood, my vision blackening. I managed to hiss out a single word, a name, before my eyes shut.

"Scott."

~°~  
Yay. One more chapter and then Absent is finished. What did you think of this so far? I really do hope you liked it.

For those who want to know, she cut the Viking Tune for protection into his back.

I will not be posting the last chapter until I have updated my other books. I have no promised posting date. Sorry.

3 years 10 months. Found Date: August 12. Kidnapped date: October 22.

Thank you to SirenNightwalker for the help with this. And for just being there in general.

Holy Mother of Fudge. 3.08K?! I love you all so much!

Oh, and stay sexy  
-Scomiche❤ 


	30. Thirty

Scott's P.O.V  
I remember clearly what convinced me to become a police officer. It was about a month after I had collected that boy. Mitch. He stuck with me. Some how, four years later, I was still thinking of him, even though I hadn't seen him in a very long time.

I walked into the store, in search of a coat. November was here, and my jacket wasn't cutting it.

As I headed to the back of the store where they kept the clothes, I heard crying. Intrigued, I followed the sound. It was a lady. In her late forties, early fifties. A bald man next to her had his arm over her shoulders and they held out a paper.

I drew closer. What was she crying about? God, I'm nosey.

"-please? He hasn't been home in a month." The woman sniffed.

"I don't know if I can. I mean, I would, Mrs. and Mr. Grassi, but I don't know if I am allowed to let people hang up posters in the store." I watched them closer the moment the store employee said their last name.

Grassi, Grassi... The name was familiar. But why? They was that I kept asking myself as I stood there.

"Then get your manager." The woman snarled, a hiking everyone that heard her, especially her husband. She seemed so level headed. "My Mitchie is missing."

Mitch! These were the parents of that boy Drake had. His name and face had constantly stuck with me. I stood there and watched as the uncomfortable employee slink away to go get his manager as the woman cried.

"Mike! Why did this have to happen to our beautiful boy?" She sobbed.

Because of that reason. Because he was beautiful. I thought. My heart felt heavy as I watched the pain of this couple. The pain I helped set. Never had my father cared for me like that. My mother, she did, but she was gone so early in my life.

That is when I made up my mind. I would help the police find these kids.

Little did I know, just how heart wrenching that would be. I had to constantly betray Alex, the man I loved more than anything, and he never knew.

Almost four years, I did that. I remembered the day we found Wednesday. I remembered her all to well. I had been the one to give her to Alex for Ethan and his wife. I knelt down by her and cried. "I am so sorry. So so sorry." I sobbed. Soon, I promised to myself that I would get Mitch out. I began to closely monitor where he was sent. Even when the clients sold him on their own, Alex knew exactly where. It took months for me to finally get the police to storm the house that I knew held Mitch.

Few knew how I got my information, and one of the people that did was Alex's Informant. That is how we knew they had tracked Mitch's phone and had to relocate.

To this informant, a boy named Travis, I was just there in the station. Being the one Alex trusted above all else had it's perks. When they began to suspect that someone was ratting out on where the kids were, all eyes turned to Travis. How funny that the most loyal of us was the one that everybody saw as a threat and the one they trusted was the one actually bringing them down.

Travis was dead that night. By then, I had to wait to disclose information, for I knew Alex would kill me if he found out. By this time, Mitch was with a lady, Juliet O'hera. I had met her one, months before and that woman gave me a bad feeling.

Six months had past. Now was the time to act, even if it got me killed.

"Chief?" I knocked on Chief Menchez's door. He had told me that the moment I was ready to tell him how I knew where there kids were, he would listen. I was risking Jail Time for Mitch.

"Come in." I opened the door and peeked inside. "Oh, Hoying. Come in, come in. All the way."

I did as he ordered and walked over to a chair, sitting down. "I know where more kids are. And I am ready to tell you how I know." I said in a rush before I lost my nerve.

"Let's start off with how." He said. The question that had been nagging him.

"I work for them. Travis did to. The thought he was the one giving away where there kids were. That is why he stopped showing up to work. I was the one that collected most of these kids." I looked down in shame. "The leader trusts me above everyone else. That is why I am allowed to know exactly where they are."

I heard him hum to himself. "I am willing to overlook your involment, if you tell me where their base of operation is."

"I promise." I looked up, meeting his gaze. "And you want the address of where the next kids are? All I ask is that I am there when you go save them. I have a connection with one of the kids there." I had more than a Connection. I had a promise to fulfill. One I have him years ago I highly doubted he remembered it, but it did. I had lied and told Alex my new job was at a bar. But the force had just hired me.

"Fine. Text me the details and I will get you sent. Where are the kids?"

"San Diego."

"Better get going. I'll get you there by tomorrow. Go get packed. I'll contact Denning."

I was driven to San Diego from Arlington. I arrived around nine in the morning. Chief Menchez had already given me an update. They had taken Alex, Ben, and a few others into custody. They just had to wait for other's to confirm that's who it was.

"You must be Officer Hoying." A man said. "I am Officer Denning." He greeted me outside the station, where a ton of officers had gathered. "I want you in the lead car. You have the address, correct?"

I pulled out a slip of paper. "Here."

"Good." He then turned to address the mass. "Remember, we will be respectful. Then, we will enter. Do not shoot."

They all agreed, and off we went. We pulled up to the house. I shivered. I had heard Alex talking about this lady. Horror stories. But the house didn't reflect that. It was a simple house, one someone might associate with a kind grandma, who spent her time making cookies. That vision was quickly wiped away as I got out of the car. Faintly, I could here screams.

I looked around. Horror covered the faces of everyone. They could hear it.

"Let's go!" Officer Denning ordered. Everyone moved forward and we rang the doorbell. The screams stopped and a silence fell over everything. A minute later, the door opened and everyone just stared. Bloody. That was the only way to describe her.

Her blonde hair stuck to her face, dark red in color. Her hands were covered and shirt was soaked, all in impossible amounts of blood.

"Looks like you've caught me. But you haven't caught them." She smiled and stuck her hands out.

"Search the house. We need to find those kids."

"Kids? Oh boy, you are so misinformed. They aren't kids." She laughed as a female officer drug her to a car. We entered the house and spit up. The radio was filled with a constant chatter over the next minutes, officers reporting what they found.

I was walking ahead of officer Denning, who had fallen behind me to talk to one of the officers who had found a room with pools of blood, fresh and not, when I saw the faint light of an open door.

"Officer Denning!" I called as I stopped a few feet from it, looking back. "There is a room down here."

"That must be where they are. We've reached this whole house. Are you sure they are here?" He asked, eyebrows furrowed as he came to a stop at my side.

"Very, sir. I have ways of knowing." I wiggled my eyebrows with a goofy smile. Then I was all business. I raised my voice. "San Diego PD. Arms in the air." No answer. I decided to try my luck. I pushed at the door.

The door swung open and I gasped, eyes taking it all in. But I didn't focus on the tables. No. My eyes went to the moving forms in two cages, both cloaked in shadows.

I drew closer, my eyes never straying from my target. That was where the two were. "I found them, sir. Two of them." I squated down, staring at the bloody face that looked at me. I knew he recognized me. That became even more apparent as he slipped down, eyes closing, a single word escaping out.

"Scott."

"Call 911. Now." I called back and Officer Denning didn't even question it. I unlocked the cages and ordered the second boy out, then moved to Mitch. He was pale, and his chest scarcely moved. I pulled him out and picked him up bridal style, blood soaking my clothes. There was so much blood. More still seeped from the wounds.

"Oh, God. Please don't die Mitch. I saved you. I won't allow you to die, too." I choked out. I looked at his face, still, like an angel's, as though he wasn't dying, as though it wasn't covered in sweat and blood.

"I won't let you die. I promise you of that." I said. "I will keep my promise to save you. I swear it. Even if it kills me." I pressed my lips softly to his forehead.

Then, there in my arms, Mitch's heart and breathing stopped.

~°~  
There you lovely people go. Absent's last chapter. I really do hope you all loved it.

I cried so many times throughout this book. A lot of the time, I found myself saying "All I see when I close my eyes is Blood, Death, and Destruction." I'm a Bad person.

Such a sad ending. But! Scott kept his promise 'til the end. :)

Oh, and stay sexy  
-Scomiche❤ 


	31. End

Here you go my beautiful little beings. By the time this is posted, I will be on my way to starting book two, Found.

I will wait a bit to finish this, because I need to publish chapters in my other books. But I can do that quickly. I hope. :)

What did you think of this? Honest opinions?(No hating on people of they didn't like it. Thoygh, if you didn't why are you still here? JK) I love you all so much. Thanks for sticking with me through this. :)

I honestly hope you enjoyed this book. I loved writing it so much and I apologize for how long it is between updates(All of like two days. I'm pathetic). Just been super busy with everything.

Love you all so much and thank you for suffering through this.  
-Scomiche❤ 


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